


in my time of need

by Zoejoy24



Series: in my time of need [1]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Extremely Dubious Consent, Family Drama, Forced Bonding, Forced Heat, Fuck Or Die, Human Trafficking, Hurt/Comfort, Light Bondage, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Rimming, Slow Burn, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, implied sexual slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:55:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 43,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23450551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoejoy24/pseuds/Zoejoy24
Summary: Human trafficking isn't usually Gil's wheelhouse, but when omegas start turning up dead after black market auctions, he gets brought in as part of a joint task force to shut the auctions down and stop the murders.The operation goes off without a hitch.  Or so it seems, until he's forced to choose between letting a young omega die, or saving him and changing both of their lives forever.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright
Series: in my time of need [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1793656
Comments: 146
Kudos: 206





	1. Found

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, look at me doing all sorts of new things. ABO, Mpreg. Please be sure to check the tags! cWhere it's applicable, chapter end notes also have more information about the dubcon tag as well.
> 
> Thank you, [KateSamantha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateSamantha) for being a wonderful beta, as always!

Gil stands in the middle of a large hall, watching the bustle of activity going on around him, but paying little attention to most of it. It’s been a long op and he’s tired, ready to wrap things up and go home.

By all rights he shouldn’t even be here. They’d taken down an omega slave ring running illegal black market auctions under the table for cash, without any of the proper vetting or paperwork. People acquiring omegas that way never had good intentions. Still, the case had belonged to Human Trafficking until dead omegas started popping up after the auctions. After that, the Department formed a joint task force, with Gil leading the major crimes element.

Somehow, he’d ended up undercover at one of the auctions. Which was  _ really _ not his thing. He hadn’t done this much field work in years, and while it was tiring, it was also a little exhilarating. They’d needed someone a little older, who could pull off playing a rich bastard and entitled alpha, and apparently he’d been their best bet. 

The human trafficking folks assured him it was the goatee and not his personality that helped him fill the role, and that he’d fit right in. They’d been right. A nice suit was all it took for him to blend in easily with the other rich, entitled bastards who’d been there and no questions had been asked. In fact it worked so well that he’d gotten all the evidence they’d needed to run a raid and shut down the ring for good.

He could probably go home, but he didn’t want to leave until the scene was fully processed, until all the i’s were dotted and the t’s crossed. He was technically the senior officer on site, and it made him feel responsible to stay till he was sure everything was taken care of.

He was also the only alpha allowed to remain at the scene as well.

There were at least seven unbonded omegas being held in the building where the auction had been taking place. They were scared and helpless as it was, and having a bunch of young, unbonded alpha uni’s running around would only lead to disaster.

Gil didn’t have to worry much about that these days. Not only was he older and more adept at controlling the biological urges that came with being an Alpha, but he’d been bonded for years, nearly three decades. In many ways he was still mourning Jackie’s death, and it was very possible that his alpha instincts to bond would never be as strong as they once were. His senses and awareness of the world around him were as sharp as ever, but his mind had more control over his body’s reactions to the stimulus than it had when he was a younger man.

He could smell the omegas, could practically taste their fear and uncertainty, and while the scent still awoke the urge within him to claim and protect, he was able to divert that urge towards his police work.

Then, something changes. A new scent fills the air, stronger and more compelling than before. Gil feels his body respond immediately, pulse increasing, pupils dilating. One of his detectives, a beta named Dani, rushes over to him and he knows what she’s going to say before she even opens her mouth. There’s always an exception to the rule, and an omega in heat awakens every apha instinct, regardless of age or bond status.

“Gil, they found another one, and… it isn’t good.”

“They’re in heat?” Gil guesses.

Dani nods. “Yes. It’s a forced heat, one of those illegal stimulants but we don’t know which one.”

“Are any of the auction runners still on site?” Gil asks, mind racing.

“Yeah, one.”

“Good. I want to talk to him.”

Gil has an idea of what’s going on here, but he wants to hear it from one of the people responsible, just to be sure. And if they can get the name of the stimulant being used, they can administer the correct antidote.

Dani continues to talk, explaining the situation in more detail. “We found him in a locked room, separated from the others. We think this is what killed the other omegas,” she adds in a quiet voice.

Gil growls, low in his chest. He’d known these people were horrible, handing helpless omegas over to who knows what kind of alphas, for who knows what purposes. But why would they kill off the source of their income? 

They reach the small room where the suspect is being held. He’s sitting in a chair, hands cuffed behind him while a uni reads him his rights. Gil doesn’t bother to wait. He storms in, grabs the man by the collar and lifts him till their eye to eye.

“What did you give them?” he snarls.

The man doesn’t answer, just smiles lewdly. “Ah, I see you found our entertainment for the evening.”

“What do you mean?” Gil demands.

The man looks him over, recognition dawning. “So you’re the one who blew our operation. I have to say I’m surprised. You seemed very interested in the merchandise when we talked earlier. In fact, I think they chose your favorite boy for tonight’s demonstration.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Gil demands, ignoring the man’s jibes. Everything he’d done and said had been recorded by his body cam, he has nothing to hide from the officers in the room and the man’s accusations don’t bother him. He’d done what he had to, nothing else.

The man doesn’t answer, so Gil tries a different tactic. “Look, you give me the information I need, I’ll make sure the judge knows about it. If you don’t, I’ll make sure you’re the only one who goes down for murder. All three of them. Start talking.”

The man pales at that, eyes darting nervously to the side to see if either of the other officers are surprised by Gil’s threats. They aren’t.

“You can’t stop it. It’s a mix of drugs, there’s no antidote. Not unless you plan on bonding with him,” he sneers.

“Why? Why kill your own merchandise?” Gil asks and he can’t keep the sorrow from his voice. It only riles the man up more—a true sadist, clearly enjoying the pain he’s caused.

“They don’t always die. Usually there’s someone who wants them bad enough to bond. Then we make a little extra. But if not, it’s worth it if it means our buyers get to sample the goods. They’re far more willing to shell out cash once they’ve had a little taste.”

Gil understands. Most stimulants produce a normal heat or rut that can be sated with a proper knotting, pure and simple. They can be dangerous, but most aren’t deadly even if the omega or alpha who took it isn’t able to knot. They might have to go to the hospital, but they’ll survive. But whatever drug they’re using here requires a full bond to counteract. It means that more than one person can  _ enjoy _ the omega while they're in heat, knotting them without lessening the effect of the drug, until the omega is either bonded, or their body gives out from the strain.

“How long?” Gil asks.

“What?”

“How long does he have?” he yells, shaking the man harshly.

“Two more hours, maybe three. We drugged him right before the auction started.”

Gil drops him, he misses the chair and goes straight to the floor with a yelp, but Gil doesn’t care. He stalks out of the room, running a hand through his hair in frustration and to keep himself from punching a wall. Dani follows him out into the hall, her usual confidence gone in the face of this new development.

“What do we do, boss?” she asks.

“Shit, shit! I don’t know. We can’t just let him die. Get the hospital on the phone, find out how long it would take to get an antidote.”

Dani nods and pulls out her phone right away. Gil paces as he waits, mind racing. 

There’s one solution, an obvious one, but it's...unfathomable. The ramifications would be serious, life changing for both of them and he doesn’t know if he can do that, to himself or the omega.

Dani’s call is short and he can read the answer in her face before she even hangs up. 

“Too long,” is all she says.

“Fuck. Okay. Does he… is he coherent enough to understand the situation?”

“I think so?” Dani answers. He’s guessing he doesn’t have a lot of experience with omegas in heat. It can be hard to tell how with it they are at any given moment.

“Bring me to him.” Gil demands.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Dani asks.

“No. But it’s the only one I’ve got right now. He deserves to know what’s going on, to have some say.”

Dani looks skeptical, but leads the way through the building.

Gil could have found the omega himself, though it may have taken longer. The smell grows stronger the closer they get, and he has to focus on his breathing more, on keeping pace with Dani rather than rushing forward.

It may be perfectly safe for him to spend time around omegas in a normal situation, but an unbonded omega in heat, in a forced heat that’s likely stronger than a natural heat would be, that’s an entirely different story. It takes every ounce of self-control he possesses to maintain control, much less a professional demeanor.

He overtakes Dani when they reach the right hallway and he finds the correct room easily, taking one deep, calming breath before pushing the door open.

The effect is immediate, the wave of pheromones that crests over him almost overpowering and he has to grip tight to the door jamb to keep himself from rushing in and mounting the omega then and there. He’s naked, writhing on a bed and covered in a sheen of sweat, and he senses Gil immediately, too. He moans, long and low and  _ sweet _ as a quiver goes through his body and his legs spread instinctually, his head turning to bare his neck. It takes a moment for Gil to realize that his wrists are wrapped in wide leather cuffs and chained to the corners of the bed.

“Do we know his name?” Gil grits out between clenched teeth.

“Malcolm,” Dani answers.

Gil nods once, taking another deep, calming breath while keeping his grip on the door jamb.

“Malcolm, can you hear me?” he calls out softly, gently.

The omega whimpers, eyes opening and coming to rest on Gil, and he nods, once.

Gil recognizes him from earlier in the evening. There’d been a viewing party of sorts for those who were attending the auction, a chance for them to get up close and personal with the merchandise, to see who they liked best. He’d participated because he had to, it would ruin his cover if he didn’t pretend to be interested. The omegas were all standing obediently, naked and perfectly groomed, on display for the alphas who were gathered, heads bowed and eyes downcast. It didn’t take long after he'd reached Malcolm for the feigned interest to turn real. Gil  _ had _ liked this omega. Something about him seemed familiar almost, his scent awakening something in the alpha that none of the others had, that no omega had for a long time.

He’s pretty, with chestnut hair that falls to his ears and striking blue eyes, the bluest Gil has ever seen. He’s small but not a waif. Gil never did like his omegas to be too thin. This omega—Malcolm—is well-proportioned and just Gil’s type. 

He hadn’t been able to hide his attraction earlier in the evening and the auctioneer had noticed, offering Gil the chance to touch, to sample the goods a bit. He’d let himself run a hand over the omega’s shoulders, down his back, but that was all. He had smooth, supple skin and Gil could feel the flex of muscle beneath his hands. If he had touched anymore he wouldn’t have been able to stop.

He’s older than most unbonded omegas, something Gil had asked the auctioneer about.

She’d frowned slightly at the question, but answered honestly enough.

“This one gave us some trouble. He’s obedient now, knows his place. But it took longer than most.” 

Gil had hummed thoughtfully before using the new information as an excuse to move on.

Now, the omega, Malcolm, is laid out before him for the taking, the scent of his need nearly overwhelming, the slick between his legs noticeable from across the room.

“Malcolm, do you know what’s happening?” Gil asks.

The omega doesn’t answer, not with words. He moans at the sound of Gil’s voice, back arching as he writhes on the bed.

“Fuck, he’s too far gone,” Gil bites out.

“Boss… he’s going to die if you don’t do something,” Dani says.

“I know that, Dani! What do you want me to do, rape him? Bond with him without his consent? I came here to stop this from happening, not to do it myself,” Gil explodes.

If Dani is surprised by his outburst she doesn’t show it. “You came here to stop a murder. This is the only way.”

Gil snarls, and he does punch the wall then, the pain grounding him for a brief moment, taking his mind off the nearly irresistible urge to join the omega on the bed.

His outburst affects Malcolm, too. He whimpers, shaking his head and curling in on himself briefly in the face of Gil’s anger. He’s sensitive, reacting to every emotion Gil is exuding, another sign of how potent the heat must be. He’s suffering, dying.

Before he even realizes it Gil’s moving, crossing the room and dropping to his knees beside the bed. He reaches out to grasp one of Malcolm’s bound hands in his own, pushes his fringe back from his sweat beaded brow with the other, soothing the omega as he cards gentle fingers through his hair.

Malcolm moans at the touch, pressing into it, his whole body turning towards Gil. The urge to crawl into the bed with him, to touch every inch of him and soothe the heat burning inside of him is so strong that it physically hurts to resist, but Gil clamps down on it, every muscle tense as he continues to talk the omega through the situation.

“Shit, kid. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wish there was any other way, but I can’t stand by and let you die. Not when I can do something about it.”

The omega whines and twists, turning his head feverishly on the pillow so he can meet Gil's eyes with his own. “Alpha, please. It hurts. Please… need you.”

Gil groans and his control snaps. He surges forward, catches Malcolm’s lips in a searing kiss, breaking apart long moments later when he hears Dani shuffling by the door still.

“Shut the door,” he growls at her. “Get water... fuck!” he exclaims as Malcolm latches his lips to Gil’s throat and sucks. “You know what we need. Water, food. Don’t open the door again until I tell you. Got it?” 

Dani nods, eyes wide and she obeys, closing the door swiftly.

Gil turns back to the omega beneath him.

“I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dubious consent is due to Malcolm being drugged and forced into a fuck or die heat. At the time that the sex happens Malcolm is consenting, but he is also impaired and wouldn't have consented if he were not drugged and in heat. Gil is not impaired and is 'consenting' but also wouldn't be doing it if he didn't have to to save Malcolm's life.


	2. Forced

For the first time since Jackie died, Gil drops all of his defenses. He lets biology take over and stops trying to fight against the insistent throb of arousal building within him, the urges that nature instilled in him, brought on in force by the pheromones the omega is releasing that hang thick in the air of the small room, flooding his senses. 

He knows that if he thinks any more about what he’s about to do, he won’t go through with it. And that’s not an option. Letting Malcolm  _ die  _ is not an option. 

As soon as the door clicks closed Gil pushes himself to his feet and starts to strip. Malcolm whines at the loss of contact, the sound high and desperate, going straight to Gil’s cock. 

“No, no please,” Malcolm begs, hands pulling against the restraints as a wave of need brought on by the heat courses through him. 

His back arches once more, accentuating the long lines of his torso before he collapses, boneless, back onto the bed and starts to writhe, legs moving restlessly, head turning fitfully on the pillow. His skin is flushed, cock lying full and heavy on his belly, leaking pre-come while pungent slick leaks from his hole. It coats the inside of his thighs as he writhes and twists, rubbing his legs together then spreading them wantonly. 

Gil is achingly hard, his knot pulsing at the base of his cock as he takes in the sight before him. He’s nearly mindless with want now, the brief contact he’d had with the omega in heat more than enough to kick start his own rut. There’s no going back now.

As soon as he’s naked Gil crawls onto the bed and presses the full length of his body along that of the omega beneath him, covering him completely, holding him down, protecting him, claiming him. He buries a hand in the hair at the back of the omega’s skull and tilts his head back, holds him in place while he kisses him hungrily, licking at his lips and being granted immediate access as Malcolm moans beneath him, rutting up against him mindlessly. He plunders the omega’s mouth, intent on tasting every inch of him, only breaking away when the need for air becomes too strong to resist, when Malcolm starts to fight against the hold Gil has in his hair. 

“Please, need your knot. Please alpha,” Malcolm moans once he’s caught his breath. 

Those beautiful blue eyes are blown wide, glazed over by his heat and even more irresistible for it. Gil wants to savor this, to learn every inch of the omega’s body, to tease and taunt and drive Malcolm mad with want. But there’s real pain in the omega’s voice, in his eyes as he begs Gil for mercy from the effects of the drugs coursing through him, and Gil can be patient. Even after they bond the heat will last. He drops his head, turning to lick a stripe up the long column of the omega’s neck, and his eyes fall on the strap around his wrist and the bruised and reddened skin beneath it.

A low, feral growl rumbles up from deep within his chest as he sees the marks on his omega’s skin—marks that aren’t from  _ his _ mouth or hands. Someone else has done this, has caused his omega pain and marked him. He wraps his fingers around Malcolm’s wrist and pushes it down into the bed, holding his arm still while he starts to work at removing the cuff, only to snarl in frustration when he finds a small padlock keeping the strap secure.

Below him, Malcolm whimpers, a tremor running through his body. “N-no… ‘m sorry, alpha. Please… oh god, please it hurts,” he begs, and Gil can smell his fear in the face of Gil’s sudden anger. 

He calms, releasing Malcolm’s wrist and planting a gentle kiss there, just below the cuff.

He plants another kiss further up on his forearm and another, sucking and nipping gently at the sensitive skin on the inside of his arm as he makes his way back up to Malcom’s neck. 

“Hush now, love, none of that,” he whispers soothingly between kisses.

He passes over the spot where his mark will go when they bond—it’s not time for that yet. Malcolm settles beneath him, the fear receding until only the smell of his heat remains, and Gil can’t wait any longer to finally knot him.

He cups the omega’s face in his hand, resting his thumb lightly over this throat just below his chin and settling his palm over his jaw, wrapping his fingers around to cradle the back of his head, the hold possessive and controlling, allowing him to tilt and twist and angle his head so he can claim his mouth exactly the way he likes, fitting their lips together and kissing him deeply. 

With his free hand he reaches down between their bodies, fingers trailing over Malcolm’s stomach with feather light touches that make the omega squirm and gasp beneath him. When he reaches Malcolm’s cock he can’t help but feel, grasping it loosely in his fist and stroking lightly, running the pad of his thumb over the tip and smearing the precome gathered there along the length. Malcolm breaks away from their kiss and moans loudly, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth drops open, head tilting back into Gil’s grip. Gil gives his cock a few firm strokes, just a tease, a promise of what’s to come, before he moves on, slipping his fingers down behind Malcolm’s balls to his slick, hot entrance. 

He circles the omega’s rim with a fingertip, drawing a needy whine from him and making him squirm as he presses lightly against his entrance to test the give there, wetting his finger with slick as he does. 

“Yes, alpha,  _ there _ . Please, yes.” Malcolm begs, repeating the words over and over in a desperate, needy tone that goes straight to Gil’s cock.

He pressed his finger in and hisses in surprise at the tightness he finds there. 

The omega,  _ his _ omega, is still a virgin, his body impossibly tight around Gil’s finger even though he’s in heat. That will change once he takes his first knot, once his body learns what being in heat means, how to open up for an alpha cock and knot. Gil’s mind goes blank, body flushing with heat as the knowledge that he’ll be the omega’s first pushes him over the edge, heightening the potency of his rut until all he can think about is claiming the boy beneath him. 

Gil’s cock throbs where it lays trapped between their bodies, and he ruts against Malcolm’s stomach, tiny little thrusts he can’t hold back as the pheromones from his rut course through him, demanding to be sated, making him desperate to lose himself in the tight heat of his omega’s body and claim him like he’s meant to be claimed—hard and fast.

He tries to go slow, doesn’t want to hurt Malcolm, even though he knows that right now he wouldn’t mind. Right now, Malcolm would welcome the burn, would welcome whatever pain Gil decided to inflict upon him. But Gil’s already taking so much from him, and he doesn’t want to hurt him anymore than he has to. 

He works another finger in, thrusting them in and out of the omega’s body as he opens him gently and thoroughly, and drives him mad with pleasure all the while. The noises falling from Malcolm’s lips make Gil’s cock throb and weep with pre-come; the way he fucks himself back onto Gil’s fingers, wanton and desperate; and even though Gil  _ hates _ that he’s restrained, he can’t help but appreciate the way Malcolm looks as he struggles against the cuffs, so desperate to touch his alpha. His resolve to open Malcolm slowly fades in the face of Malcolm’s pleas. 

“Alpha, please, need you. Need your knot. God, alpha, give it to me, please,” he moans.

“I’ve got you, baby. You’re almost there, almost ready for me, love. Just a little longer,” Gil murmurs to him, pressing gentle kisses to his sweat soaked temple, licking and sucking at his neck, dipping his tongue into the hollow of his collarbone and lapping up the salty sweet sweat that’s pooled there.

He stops at two fingers. He can’t wait any longer, and it’s enough. He lines himself up, sliding his cock between the omega’s thighs to wet it on the slick there, his knot throbbing, ready to fill the omega beneath him. Finally,  _ finally _ , he grips the base of his cock, squeezing around his knot, and guides himself inside. He tightens his fingers in Malcolm's hair and kisses him, holding him still as he presses in with one long stroke. Malcolm whines against his lips as he brings his legs up and wraps them around the alpha’s hips. 

“Yes, yes, oh fuck…” Malcolm whimpers as Gil seats himself fully in the omega’s body.

His virgin hole is tight and unbelievably hot, the drug-induced heat more intense than any heat that would occur naturally. Gil can’t imagine how it must feel for the omega—bound helpless to the bed, driven mad with need, body fever-hot, waiting, ready to mate and knot for  _ hours _ without a single touch from an alpha to sate him. But Gil’s here, now. Malcolm is  _ his _ —his to care for during his heat—and he’s going to make it so damn good for the omega.

Gil starts slow, pulling out nearly all the way before pushing back in, drawing a high, needy whine from the omega. Malcolm clasps his ankles at the small of Gil’s back and tries to pull him in faster, tries to raise himself up to meet Gil’s thrust but the alpha grabs hold of his hip and presses him down against the bed, keeping him still. The omega groans in frustration, fighting against the restraints at his wrists and the hold Gil has on him, but it does him no good and he’s left at the mercy of the alpha above him. Gil repeats the motion again, and again, spreading the omega open with his cock, relishing the way Malcolm feels around him, slick and hot and tight. He takes it perfectly, like he was made for Gil and Gil alone.

“Faster, alpha, please. Knot me, tie me, make me yours,” Malcolm pleads, raising his head up to press a kiss to Gil’s lips once more. 

Gil lets him kiss him, briefly, before pulling away and nipping along his jaw and down his throat. He sets to work finding the spot along the juncture of the omega’s neck and shoulder where he’ll mark him,  _ claim _ him, and release the chemicals that will seal their bond. Malcolm mewls, turning his head into the pillow to give Gil full access to his neck. 

Gil increases his pace, fucking into Malcolm eagerly, holding nothing back. His knot begins to swell, catching on the omega’s rim with each thrust. He can feel the pleasure pooling low in his gut, the pressure in his balls building as he gets closer and closer to finding release and he doubles his efforts, continuing to nip and tease at Malcolm’s shoulder.

Malcolm cries out beneath him as his own pleasure builds, nearly incoherent as he gasps and pleads. “Yes, fuck, alpha. Yes,  _ yes… _ oh, fuck!”

Malcolm’s whole body goes taut, and Gil knows he’s found the right spot. He seals his lips over the skin just past the slope of the omega’s shoulder before biting down, hard enough to bruise but not draw blood, triggering the release of the bonding hormones into his omega’s body. Malcolm groans loudly, pain turning quickly to pleasure as he starts to come, cock spurting between them and coating both of their stomachs as Gil fucks him through his orgasm, driving tiny gasps from Malcolm's lips with each thrust. The omega’s body clenches around his own as he comes, tightening around Gil’s knot and milking his cock till his own orgasm rips through him. He cries out his release, grip tightening on Malcolm's hip as he holds him in place, grinding against his ass as he finishes deep in the omega's body.

He knows he can't breed an omega in a forced heat, but his body reacts as if he is, knot swelling to keep Malcolm full of his seed. He'll come again, several times, before his knot shrinks enough for them to separate. Then they'll do it all again, and again, until Malcolm's heat ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dubious consent is due to Malcolm being drugged and forced into a fuck or die heat. At the time that the sex happens Malcolm is consenting, but he is also impaired and wouldn't have consented if he were not drugged and in heat. Gil is not impaired and is 'consenting' but also wouldn't be doing it if he didn't have to to save Malcolm's life.


	3. Freed

Malcolm is boneless and panting, eyes closed. Gil shifts ‘til he’s laying out flat along the bed between Malcolm’s now parted legs, his upper body propped up on his elbows so he isn’t crushing the smaller man beneath him. Malcolm moans as Gil moves, squeezing around him and milking another stream of spend from his cock. Gil lets out a ragged groan at the sudden onslaught of another orgasm, though it’s much less intense than the first. 

Malcolm’s eyes open slowly and he blinks up at Gil, a blissed out smile spreading across his face. He looks beautiful like this, Gil thinks, used and sated. 

“Alpha,” Malcolm sighs, eyes closing once more, still dazed from his heat.

“Gil,” the older man replies, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to one eyelid. “My name is Gil.” He repeats the kiss on the other side, then presses his lips gently against the omega’s.

Malcolm smiles into the kiss and he murmurs Gil’s name. “ _ Gil _ , you feel so good inside of me. So big, god... your knot,” he mumbles, squeezing around Gil once more, drawing a moan from his alpha as he does. The omega’s smile widens at the response and he does it again, working his already tight hole around Gil’s cock until the alpha is panting and moaning above him.

“Fuck, baby,” Gil grits out as his omega wrings another orgasm from him. “There’s no way you should be that good at this, not your first time.”

“I’m a quick learner. They taught me how to be good,” Malcolm sighs contentedly. 

Gil grimaces at the words, the reminder that Malcolm had likely spent the last several years of his life learning how to service alphas in whatever way pleased them most.

He leans forward to press his lips against the omega’s once more, licking his way into his mouth. They kiss, slow and sweet, for several minutes, cementing their bond even further as they lay tied together, learning each other’s tastes and scents.

Malcolm’s cock grows hard again quickly, and he grows restless beneath Gil once more, panting and twitching against him. Gil ruts against his omega, only able to move in short, shallow thrusts. He wraps his hand around Malcolm’s cock and the omega thrusts up into his grip, working himself between his alpha’s cock and fist until he comes with a quiet gasp, spilling over Gil’s fist before collapsing against the bed once more. Gil lifts his hand to the omega’s mouth, pressing his fingers against his soft, pink lips and Malcolm opens eagerly, cleaning him off with his lips and tongue, moaning around his fingers.

Eventually, Malcolm dozes off, and his body relaxes enough to release Gil’s knot, which has nearly shrunk all the way down. He slips out of the heat of the omega’s body with a curse, cock sensitive after so much stimulation. He moves slowly, careful not to jostle Malcolm from his slumber, knowing he needs the rest. Malcolm whimpers when he pulls away, but doesn’t stir, and Gil lets out a soft sigh of relief. He slips on his boxers then pads to the door, cracking it open to see if anyone is in the hall. It’s empty, unsurprisingly, but there’s a case of water and a grocery bag he guesses is full of food sitting outside the door. He brings both into the room, then fishes through the piles of his clothes to find his phone. He sends a quick text to Dani to see if she’s still on site before cracking open a bottle of water and swallowing it down in one go.

His phone rings and Dani’s name pops up on his screen. He answers, speaking softly.

“Hey boss, you good?”

“Yeah, we’re good. Are you still here?” He hopes she is. He trusts her and knows that she’ll be discreet and calm in the face of their unorthodox situation.

“Yeah, I’m still here. Figured I should stick around until I heard from you.”

“I appreciate it. I got your care package, but I’m going to need some bolt cutters.”

“Okay,” Dani says slowly, clearly curious but too professional to ask why.

“The cuffs are padlocked in place. I need to get them off,” Gil explains.

Dani swears once, then he hears her calling out to someone. 

“I’ll have them for you soon, boss. They cordoned off the hallway, and JT or I will stick around after they’ve processed the rest of the scene. Call me if you need anything else.”

“Thank you Dani. I owe you one. You’ll both get some comp days after all this is over, I promise,” Gil assures her.

“No problem, boss. I’ll see you soon.”

Gil hangs up and turns his attention back to Malcolm. He wants to get some water and food into the omega before his heat crests once more. He opens a package of granola bars and grabs two, and two waters as well, and returns to the bed, sinking down to sit next to Malcolm’s hip.

Gil watches Malcolm sleep for a moment more, appreciating how beautiful he looks as he slumbers peacefully, his eyes catching on the bond mark on his shoulder. It stirs something inside of Gil that he hasn’t felt in many years, a possessive, protective instinct focused entirely on the man beneath him on the bed. A sure knowledge that he’ll do anything to ensure that the omega is safe, and that the omega is  _ his _ .

Gil presses a soft kiss to Malcolm’s forehead, then shakes him gently.

“Malcolm, love, wake up. I need you to drink some water,” he says.

Malcolm stirs, eyes blinking open and coming to rest on Gil. His eyebrows knit together, a look of confusion passing over his face, and his gaze is momentarily clear of the haze that had filled it earlier. 

“Did you buy me?” he whispers, eyes traveling over Gil’s body as if it’s the first time he’s seeing him.

Gil’s heart stutters in his chest at the question and he falters, searching for words for a long moment. Malcolm shifts, pulling lightly at the restraints at his wrists.

“You don’t need these, I’m yours now,” Malcolm says softly, acceptingly.

“Oh, Malcolm. I know, love. I didn’t buy you, it’s… it’s complicated. And I’ll explain it all after your heat passes. Right now, it’s time for me to take care of you, all right? Here, drink,” he instructs, placing the water bottle against Malcolm’s lips and tilting slowly. 

Malcolm complies, drinking obediently but never once tearing his gaze away from Gil’s. He drinks greedily and Gil finds his eyes drawn to the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. He flicks his eyes back up to Malcolm’s face and finds the omega watching him with a heated expression, eyes lidded. He flicks his tongue against the rim of the bottle and Gil moans at the sight. Malcolm smiles slyly, repeating the movement and rolling his hips slightly, just enough to draw Gil’s attention down to where his cock is once more hard and leaking pre-come.

“Shit, baby. Hold on, all right. Here, eat something for me, please.” 

Gil breaks off a piece of granola bar and brings it to Malcolm’s lips. The omega flicks out his tongue, licking along Gil’s fingers just like he had when he’d been cleaning off his own come. Gil grits his teeth, holding back on another groan. He has to get food into his omega, and he wants to wait for Dani and the bolt cutters so he can get Malcolm free of the cuffs and finally feel his hands on him. He holds out another section of the bar, feeds Malcolm piece by piece, and by the time the bar is gone he’s hard and aching and struggling to hold himself back.

Malcolm yanks on the restraints, hands curled into fists as he struggles to break free, sweat and slick filling the air with his scent once more.

“G-gil,  _ please _ , don’t make me wait. Need you now, I’ll be so good for you,” Malcolm pleads, heat-glazed eyes wide and needy, body shaking.

The way Malcolm says his name is nearly Gil’s undoing, and it’s only the sharp knock on the door that keeps him from taking his omega once more, chains be damned.

Gil pushes himself away from the bed and hurries to the door, ignoring Malcolm’s needy whines. He opens it only as far as he has to and does his best to keep his lower body hidden behind it. He’d like to have some chance of looking Dani in the eyes when all this is over.

She curls her nose at the smell but hands over the bolt cutters without comment.

“Do you need anything else? Is your boy good?” she asks.

“He’s fine,” Gil snarls, surprising both of them. “Sorry, Dani. Sorry, that was… yeah, he’s alright. Still high on his heat, I don’t think he really knows what’s going on yet. There’s no going back now, though,” he sighs.

“You bonded?” Dani asks, nostrils flaring as she sniffs the air.

As a beta her senses aren’t as strong as an alpha’s or omega’s would be, but she’s had a lot of experience determining whether a person is bonded or not.

“Yeah, we did. He’s safe now, the effects of the drug are already wearing out. Now we just gotta ride out the rest of this heat. I need to go, Dani. Thank you for everything. I’ll...call,” Gil says, his focus wavering as the scent of Malcolm’s heat grows stronger and his cries grow louder.

He shuts the door before Dani can reply and hurries to the bed, shedding his boxers on the way.

“Gil, Gil  _ please _ . I need you,” Malcolm keens, hips thrusting into thin air.

“I know baby. I’m right here. Let me get these cuffs off of you, alright? Then I’ll knot you. Fill you up like you’re made to be filled. Breed you ‘til you're full of my seed,” Gil promises, voice low and thick with need.

It takes no time at all to cut the padlocks off of the cuffs and free Malcolm’s wrists from the restraints. As soon as he does, Malcolm launches himself at Gil, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and digging the fingers of one hand into his hair, pulling Gil down onto the bed so he can crawl into his lap and kiss him desperately. Gil goes willingly, wrapping his fingers around the omega’s hips and holding him down so he can grind up against him, his cock sliding along the omega’s slick crack.

“Oh yeah, baby. There you are. Are you ready for me? Ready to take my knot again?” Gil asks when Malcolm breaks away from the kiss.

“Yes,” Malcolm hisses, “yes, Gil.  _ Alpha _ , fuck me, please. Give me your knot. I need you, only you.”

“On your front, baby. Let me see you,” Gil orders, lifting Malcolm off of him.

“Gil, no, want to touch you, see you,” Malcolm argues, clinging tighter and pressing hot, desperate kisses down the column of Gil’s neck. 

Gil chuckles, suddenly understanding why Malcolm is as old as he is and still unbonded, untouched. Most alphas who shop the black market want their omegas to be pliant and subservient, not pushy and argumentative. 

Gil doesn’t mind a little fight. He relents, for a moment, and lets Malcolm explore him, enjoying the feel of having the omega’s hands and those soft, sinful lips on his skin as Malcolm kisses and licks his way down Gil’s throat and across his chest, squirming in Gil’s lap and moaning against him. All the while Gil touches him, too. He runs his hands over the smooth skin of Malcolm’s back, down over his flank and along his thighs then back up again, appreciating the flex and shift of the omega’s muscles beneath his hands as Malcolm writhes beneath his touch.

The omega is strong and healthy. Whatever else his handlers may have done, it’s clear they maintained the physical health of the omegas in their care. All too often omegas are starved, kept small and thin and weak. Malcolm isn’t large by any means—Gil could lift him easily, pin him to the bed and hold him down if he wanted—but though he’s lean, he’s well muscled, and Gil finds it incredibly attractive.

As good as it feels to have the omega squirming in his lap, Gil grows tired of waiting. His cock is throbbing, knot aching to be surrounded by Malcolm’s hot, tight hole once more. He grabs his hips and lifts, throwing the omega off of him and onto the center of the bed this time. Malcolm yelps in shock, looking up at Gil with wide eyes.

“On your front, baby. Present for me, like a good omega. I know you know how,” Gil orders, raising himself up on his knees so he’s looming over him, fisting his cock and giving it a few unhurried strokes as he waits for Malcolm to comply.

Malcolm obeys this time, turning over to present, ass in the air, forehead pressed into the sheets, body shaking as he pants with need as slick drips from his hole, coating his ass and thighs and filling the air with the scent of his desire.

Gil scoops some up with his fingers then presses inside, testing the omega’s hole to ensure he’s ready to take his cock once more. His fingers slip in easily, Malcolm’s body loose and ready for his alpha. Gil spreads slick over his cock quickly then settles in behind Malcolm, grasping him by the hips, pulling him up and holding him still as he begins to enter his omega once more. Malcolm moans, low and long as Gil presses in, his fingers twitching and grasping at the sheets. He tries to press back but Gil’s hold is firm as he seats himself fully in one long stroke. 

“Oh, Alpha, yes. Please fuck me… please. You feel so good,” Malcolm whines. He tries to move, pushes himself up on one arm for more leverage but Gil plants a hand between his shoulder blades and pushes him back down. 

“Patience, love. I’m going to take my time with you, gonna make you feel so good,” Gil murmurs, rubbing his hand soothingly along Malcolm’s back.

He sets a slow, steady pace, holding Malcolm still all the while. Malcolm pants and whines beneath him, whispers ‘yes’ and ‘more’ over and over, but Gil takes his time. His knot is slower to fill the second time around and he waits ‘til it starts to swell before he increases his pace and loosens his grip on Malcolm’s hips. 

“Oh, fuck, yes Gil. Give me your knot, god, you fill me so well,” Malcolm groans as he fucks himself back onto Gil’s cock, moving his hips in time with the alpha’s thrusts.

Gil wraps a hand around Malcolm’s cock and starts to work him in time with his thrusts, drawing a high, needy cry from Malcolm who moves his hips even faster, chasing his own completion. Gil can tell he’s starting to get close as pre-come dribbles freely from the tip of his cock. He swipes a thumb across the head, collecting what’s gathered there and spreading it over the omega’s length. 

Gil pauses suddenly, stilling Malcolm’s movements with a firm grip on his hip and releasing his cock. Malcolm gasps, cursing and fighting against Gil's hold.

"Oh, no, please… I'm close, so close," he whines.

"Soon, Malcolm. I've got you," Gil promises.

He wraps an arm around Malcolm's chest and pulls him up onto his knees until he's leaning against Gil's chest. Malcolm moans at the change of position, reaching up to grasp Gil's forearm with one hand and taking hold of his cock with the other. Gil slaps his hand away,  _ tsk _ ing into Malcolm's ear. 

"No touching, love. I'll take care of you when I'm ready."

Malcolm whines, grinding back against Gil in desperation. "Oh god, Gil. I need to come. Want to finish with your knot in me. Please fuck me."

Gil reaches up to grasp Malcolm's chin between his thumb and forefinger and pulls him into a filthy kiss, cutting off his ragged pleas. Malcolm moans against his lips, melting into the kiss. Gil starts to fuck him again, swallowing up Malcolm's cries of pleasure as he does. He runs a hand over the omega's chest mindlessly; soft, teasing touches that make Malcolm moan and jerk against him. He toys with a nipple, scratches blunt nails through the hair on his belly, mapping out the omega's body and learning his responses, enjoying the noises each touch draws from Malcolm’s lips.

He’s ready to tie Malcolm once more, his knot catching on the omega’s rim with each thrust. He sits back on his heels, drawing Malcolm with him so his omega is seated in his lap, knot nudging against his hole, too swollen to slip in easily. Malcolm whines, clawing at Gil’s arm around his chest, reaching back to wrap a hand around Gil’s neck.

“Ready, baby? Bear down for me, time to take my knot,” Gil murmurs. 

He presses down on Malcolm’s hips gently, urging him down. He lets the omega do the work, lets him work himself on his cock, letting out a high, breathy moan as Gil’s knot finally slips inside and he’s seated fully in Gil’s lap.

“Oh fuck Malcolm,” Gil whispers into Malcolm’s ear as the omega takes him in fully, flicking his tongue against the rim. “You feel so good, still so tight for me. You take my knot so well.”

He presses kisses down the side of Malcolm’s neck until he reaches the bond mark, sealing his lips around the skin there and biting down, sucking hard to deepen the bruise there. 

Malcolm gasps, grinding down on Gil’s cock, head falling back onto his shoulder in submission. “Oh yes, alpha. Want your mark, fuck. Make me yours.”

Gil takes Malcolm in his hand and starts to work his cock once more, fucking into him with short, sharp thrusts as he does, driving them both towards completion. It doesn’t take long for the omega to come, crying out and falling forward as he does, barely catching himself. Gil fucks him through the orgasm, finding his own release only moments later.

They collapse onto the bed together. Gil drapes an arm over Malcolm’s chest and pulls him close, nuzzling into the soft hair at the base of Malcolm’s neck.

They sleep for hours, and Gil wakes up ravenous, throat dry from thirst. He eats and checks his phone. It’s been nearly 24 hours since he’d first entered the room. He can tell Malcolm’s heat is winding down. Drug-induced heats usually only last as long as the drugs are in the system still.

Malcolm wakes and Gil makes him drink and eat, another granola bar, an apple and some jerky. They doze again, and when Malcolm’s heat returns he crawls into Gil’s lap and rides him. It’s slow and sweet and doesn’t last nearly as long as their last two rounds of fucking. Gil savors it, holds Malcolm close and kisses him gently, knowing that all too soon the omega’s mind will be clear once more, and the truth of everything that's happened will come out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dubious consent is due to Malcolm being drugged and forced into a fuck or die heat. At the time that the sex happens Malcolm is consenting, but he is also impaired and wouldn't have consented if he were not drugged and in heat. Gil is not impaired and is 'consenting' but also wouldn't be doing it if he didn't have to to save Malcolm's life.


	4. Explanations

Gil wakes in an empty bed. He can tell before he even opens his eyes and his heart sinks, dread pooling low in his belly. He can smell Malcolm, though. The omega is still in the room, he hasn’t run away completely. That’s… good. It means Gil has a chance to explain things, and maybe they can work this, whatever _this_ is, out. 

He keeps his eyes closed, takes a moment to collect his thoughts, to think about what he wants to say. He’s at a loss, himself, of where to go now. He never imagined he’d be bonded again, such as it is. It’s nothing like what he’d had with Jackie, nothing like how the consummation of a truly loving bond should be. If he and Malcolm known each other, loved each other, it could have been so much better. When he’d bonded with Jackie it had felt euphoric, life-changing. Bonding with Malcolm hadn’t been a chore, by any means, but it had been a necessity. There was pleasure in it, of course, and the bond is no less permanent than any other would be, but it had been lacking. 

Biology is biology, and the hormones released by Malcom’s body when Gil left his mark, mixed with Gil’s release when he knotted him, have made Malcolm irrevocably _his_. He can smell it; the way Malcolm’s scent has changed, the way he smells like Gil, now. And that scent does _things_ to Gil… stirs something inside of him that is irrational and unrelenting. It triggers his most basic instincts; to provide, to protect, to procreate.

It’s foolish, but he wants Malcolm. Not just physically—he wants the omega in his life. He doesn’t know anything about the younger man, but from the moment he first laid eyes on him he felt something for him, a connection that he couldn’t explain. He wants to get to know him, to court him, woo him, all the things he should have been able to do before bonding, that would have made bonding with Malcolm so much more than just a biological response to his heat. And maybe it’s a little backwards, but he desperately hopes the omega will be willing to at least let him try. 

They’re stuck together, now, in some sense. Neither of them will be able to spend time apart from the other comfortably, or sleep around without it being extremely uncomfortable. But a bond doesn't mean instant happiness or relational success. It doesn’t even mean that Malcolm will like him. Judging by the emptiness of the bed, Gil’s guessing that he probably doesn’t at the moment.

He hears movement behind him, and opens his eyes, turning over to face the sound.

Malcolm is huddled, naked, in a corner, arms hugging his legs to his chest, head down, forehead resting on his knees. When Gil moves, his head shoots up and he looks over at the bed with wide, fearful eyes, face pale, and presses himself even further against the wall behind him.

“Who are you?” he asks, voice shaky and hoarse.

Gil sighs and sits up, moving slowly, trying not to spook the omega. Malcolm watches him warily, the pace of his breathing increasing noticeably. Gil moves to the opposite side of the bed and stands, reaching down to grab his boxers and pull them on before he says anything.

“My name is Gil Arroyo. I’m… I’m with the NYPD. Major Crimes.”

Malcolm’s brow furrows when Gil tells him his name, but the look of confusion morphs quickly into disgust as Gil continues to speak.

“You’re a cop? And you’re here?” he croaks out incredulously.

Gil winces. “I know. I know it looks bad but, I can explain.”

“Explain why you bought me? Bonded me? Raped—”

“Yes!” Gil barks, cutting him off. 

Malcolm starts at the sharp tone and Gil can see the tremor that runs through him from across the room. He sighs, running a hand over his face.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. Here.” He strips the sheet off the bed and tosses it over to Malcolm. “I need to get in touch with my people, and then I’ll explain everything. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

Malcolm snatches up the sheet, filthy as it is, and covers himself. He shakes his head once, glaring.

Gil texts both his detectives, unsure of who’s still at the building. He asks if there are any bathing facilities on site, and whether or not there were any clothes Malcolm could wear. JT replies an affirmative to both and that he’ll be by soon. 

He turns back to Malcolm, unable to put the conversation off any longer.

“Letting your friends know it’s their turn?” the omega bites out.

Gil raises an unimpressed eyebrow at the jab. “I bonded you, kid. You think I’m going to start passing you around? No way in hell. Now, let me explain.” He sits back down on the bed, and though the angle is awkward he turns to face Malcolm as fully as he’s able, meeting his eyes steadily as he talks. “I came here, undercover, as part of an operation to shut down these black market auctions and catch those responsible for the recent omega deaths. I had no intention of engaging in any of… this. We shut the auction down as soon as it started, but when the officers found you, it was too late.”

“What do you mean, too late? One omega in heat is too much for you to resist? Couldn’t bring yourself to give me the antidote and pass up the opportunity for a free fuck?” Malcolm demands.

“You were drugged, as you’re aware, but it wasn’t a regular stimulant,” Gil presses on, ignoring the accusations. “It’s the same stimulant used on the other dead omegas we found. There’s no antidote.”

That shuts the omega up. His mouth drops open, and his face, which had been flushed in anger, pales once more. “Am I going to die?” he whispers.

“No. Not anymore. The only way to stop the drug’s effects was to bond. I’m guessing that the hormones released from me marking you are what counteract the drug. I was the only alpha on site. I didn’t buy you, I didn’t _want_ to… to force you. I did what I had to, to save your life,” Gil explains.

Malcolm is silent for a moment, face drawn in consideration as he digests the information. Finally, he looks back up at Gil, expression blank, eyes dull. “You should have let me die.”

Gil reels, the words like a slap in the face. “What?” he whispers.

“You should have let me die. I don’t want this! I don’t even know you and now I’m expected to just… belong to you?”

Gil stands, ready to respond when there’s a knock on the door. Malcolm sneers, but Gil can tell it’s false bravado. He can smell the omega’s fear, and his expression softens. Really, what had he expected? Gratitude? Maybe. And it might still come, once the shock has worn off. But it’s a lot to take in. He can’t fault the omega for being angry.

He opens up the door, and even though he knows it’s JT on the other side, he’s still surprised by the wave of possessiveness that crests over him as soon as he smells the other alpha. JT is bonded, happily married to his wife Tally. Gil knows he’s not a threat, but it takes a real effort to hold back the snarl that threatens to escape his lips, his reactions heightened by the freshness of the bond. He knows that, and JT knows it, too. Still, JT grimaces, shifting uncomfortably as his nostrils flare and he scents Gil's aggression.

“Hey boss, got that stuff you asked for,” he says, holding out a duffle bag and eyeing Gil warily, as if he expects him to pounce.

Gil forces a smile, though it feels more like a grimace, and takes the bag. “Thanks JT. You said there’s showers?”

“Yeah, down the other wing. You can’t miss ‘em, there’s signs and everything.” 

“Great. I appreciate it. My car still here?”

JT nods.

“You can leave,” Gil says shortly. It sounds much harsher than he’d intended. “Sorry. I just mean, we’re good here now. You don’t have to wait around.”

“I got you, boss. Good luck,” JT responds with a nod of his head towards the room.

Gil sighs, rubbing his forehead as he closes the door and turns to face his omega once more.

Malcolm hasn’t moved, but he has relaxed. He seems almost surprised when JT leaves without entering the room, like he’d really expected Gil to let the alpha in. The thought alone of JT even taking an interest in Malcolm is enough to set Gil’s teeth on edge. 

“Would you like a shower, Malcolm?” Gil asks, tamping down on the possessive rage once more.

“With you?” Malcolm scoffs.

“Only if you want it to be,” Gil answers honestly. He’d happily join the omega, pamper and care for and clean him. But he won’t force himself on Malcolm, not ever again, bond or no.

Malcolm hesitates, as if he’s considering the offer, before his expression hardens. “Like you’d let me out of your sight,” he challenges.

“You’re free to do whatever you want,” Gil assures him, though it’s almost physically painful to say the words. “But I’m guessing you’re feeling pretty gross. I know I am. I have clothes for you here. My car is here. I can take you home, with me. Or,” Gil pauses, steeling himself to say the words he knows he should. “Or wherever you want to go.”

Malcolm considers him, skeptical and hesitant. “I want to go home. To my mother’s,” he answers quietly. 

Gil’s heart sinks, but he nods. “Of course. Whatever you want. Would you like to shower first? Alone?”

Malcolm nods, rising slowly to his feet with a wince, keeping the sheet wrapped tight around himself. Gil keeps his distance, holding out the duffle and letting Malcolm approach on his own to take it.

“I know where the showers are,” Malcolm says quietly when Gil opens the door. He walks away and Gil lets him. 

Gil gathers up his own clothes and follows Malcolm down the hall, keeping the wide distance between them.

Malcolm takes the men’s bathroom, and Gil decides to take the women’s. No one else is in the building, and he wants to give the omega his space. He takes his time in the shower, rinsing off the sweat and slick and come. He doesn’t have a towel so he uses his undershirt to dry off as best he can.

He half expects Malcolm to be gone when he exits the bathroom, and he’s surprised to see the omega standing in the hall. The clothes--sweats and a tee--are big on him and he looks small, lost, and uncertain as he waits. He looks up quickly when Gil walks out, and Gil doesn’t miss the look of relief that passes over Malcolm’s face before being replaced with a mask of cold indifference. He wishes Malcolm would just… accept what had happened. Accept him. But, he already knew the omega was headstrong and it doesn’t surprise him that he is struggling to come to terms with the hand he’s been dealt.

Malcolm watches him closely as he approaches, but doesn’t move away and even falls into step beside him, though he keeps several feet of distance between them.

“Could I use your phone?” Malcolm asks, pausing outside the room. 

“Of course. I’ll get cleaned up, we can go when you’re ready.” Gil retrieves his phone and hands it over. He shuts the door nearly all the way to give the omega some privacy, lingering just long enough to hear Malcolm say ‘hello Mother,’ in a quiet, broken voice.

Gil gathers the rest of his things, the food and the water, but leaves everything else as evidence for CSU to go over. Malcolm will have to make a statement, too. Not about Gil—bonded omegas can’t file charges against their alphas, an arcane law that needs to be changed but somehow never is. They’ll want his statement about the auction, and the drugging. Everything past that will be irrelevant.

He steps back into the hall to see Malcolm pacing as he talks. He’s crying, but Gil can’t tell by his expression whether they’re tears of joy or sorrow, or maybe both. He waits, leaning against the wall, trying not to eavesdrop or watch too closely.

Malcolm notices Gil and walks towards him, smiling softly and murmuring ‘I”ll see you soon, mother,” before ending the call and returning the phone to Gil. He’s subdued, eyes downcast. He looks exhausted and Gil desperately wants to gather him up in his arms, carry him back to bed, and soothe him to sleep.

“Thank you. I wanted to make sure she was home,” Malcolm explains quietly

“It’s no problem, Malcolm. I’m happy to help in any way I can,” Gil assures him. 

Malcolm nearly smiles at that, eyes lifting to meet Gil’s briefly before falling once more.

“Take me home, please,” the omega pleads, sounding so desperate that Gil can’t help but agree.

By rights, he could force Malcolm to stay with him. Another law from ages past that shouldn’t have any place in modern society and yet still exists. A law he has no intention of invoking, no matter how badly he wants to keep Malcolm close.

They walk out to his car in silence, Gil carrying the bags and Malcolm with his arms wrapped protectively around himself. He opens the trunk, first, leaves Malcolm waiting by the locked passenger door.

“Sorry, no automatic locks. Give me a sec,” he explains as he loads up the trunk. When he goes to unlock the door, Malcolm doesn’t move away, and Gil allows himself one final concession.

He steps in close to the omega, crowding him back against the car. Malcolm sucks in a startled breath, one hand reaching for the door handle, the other coming up to press against Gil’s chest.

“Gil, what?” he gasps out, eyes wide and so blue in the sun that they’re nearly transparent.

Gil plants one hand on the car next to Malcolm’s shoulder and brings the other up to cup Malcolm’s cheek. A surge of need shoots through him—pure, physical desire, but also the need to dominate, to control, to bend Malcolm to his will rather than to let him go. He slips his hand to the back of Malcolm’s head and barely resists the urge to curl his fingers into the hair there and _pull_ , to yank the omega’s head to the side and mark him once more, remind him who he belongs to.

Instead, he cradles Malcolm’s head gently and leans in for one soft, desperate kiss, a simple press of his lips against his omega’s. Malcolm whimpers beneath him, in fear or disgust, or maybe pleasure… Gil doesn’t know, and it doesn’t matter. He breaks the kiss, rests his forehead against the omega's for one brief moment before stepping back completely.

“Fuck, Malcolm. I wish… I wish things had gone differently,” he admits. 

Malcolm says nothing and Gil doesn’t wait for a response before rounding the car and unlocking his own door and sliding inside.

“Where to, kid?” he asks as Malcolm settles into his own seat, and Malcolm gives him the address.

He’s familiar with the area, it used to be part of his beat back in the day, and he sets off as soon as Malcolm is buckled in.

The omega presses himself against the door, keeping his distance from Gil as best he can in the small space and shooting furtive glances his way every few minutes. Gil huffs out a bitter laugh.

“I’m not going to assault you while I’m driving, Malcolm.”

Malcolm scowls, but relaxes back into his seat.

“How long since you’ve been back?” Gil asks later as the homes they drive past grow nicer and nicer with each block.

Malcolm continues to stare out the window, and Gil begins to think he won’t answer. Finally the omega sighs and says, “Five years. Maybe six? I was 18 when my mother… when I left.”

“And how long were you with _them_?” Gil presses.

“Four. It didn’t take long for the first school to realize I was too much work and sell me off to the highest bidder. I don’t know if they even told my mother, or where she thinks I’ve been all this time. Happily married to some wealthy Alpha out of state, maybe?” Malcolm says, and Gil can hear the bitterness in his tone.

He’s seen it often. Wealthy parents sending their omega children off to ‘schools’ to be primped and pampered and made into the perfect candidates for bonding with affluent, high-society alphas. They pay a lot of money to get their children into the most prestigious, cushy schools they can. It’s a legal and contractual loophole that allows those schools to pass any omega they’d like to be rid of on to another school, often for large sums of money. He’d suspected that was what happened to Malcolm, but now he had confirmation, and it made his blood boil.

“It happens,” Malcolm says suddenly, and Gil looks over to find the omega is watching him intently. “There’s no point in getting upset. It wasn’t bad, not until the end. They didn’t… do anything. You know that.”

Gil takes a deep breath, calming himself. Malcolm had clearly been able to sense his anger at the situation. “I know that it happens. Doesn’t mean I have to like it. If I had my way we’d shut everyone of those damn organizations down.”

He turns onto the final street and a sudden memory stops his train of thought in its tracks. He’s been here, to this street, to this _address_ , he realizes as he pulls up in front of the correct house. His heart is pounding in his chest as he looks over at Malcolm, eyes wide with shock and whispers, “Oh, my god.”


	5. Reunion

Malcolm has the door open and is rushing out of the car as soon as it stops, but Gil barely even notices. His mind is racing, pieces falling into place as memories from years past come flooding back in at the sight of the Whitly residence.

Malcolm is Malcolm Whitly, son of The Surgeon, the serial killer, and Gil’s first big break when he was still just a beat cop.

Malcolm, who had called the cops on his own father. The scared young boy who Gil had called a hero, who had _ saved Gil’s life. _

He’d tried to keep tabs on the family, on Malcolm in particular. There had been something about the boy that Gil just couldn’t shake. He’d stopped by the house once or twice while he was still a uni working this beat, and Jessica had always been reserved, but grateful. Then he’d seen them in court at Martin’s trial. In fact that was the last time he’d seen Malcolm in 14 years. He’d told him again how brave he was, how he’d done the right thing and saved a lot of people. 

Once he’d been promoted to Detective he’d switched to checking in with the occasional phone call. He’d ask after both children, of course, but really he was more concerned with how Malcolm was handling everything. Jessica answered willingly enough, but Gil could tell she was protective of Malcolm and wary of the older alpha’s interest in her young omega son. He didn’t blame her, though he had never thought of Malcolm in that way before.

And now… now Malcolm is rushing up the stairs and pounding on the front door. Part of Gil wants to drive away and avoid the hell that is sure to break loose as soon as Jessica Whitly opens the door. But he can’t do that. He has to face the consequences of everything that has taken place over the last two days and figure out how they are going to move forward from here.

He steps out of the car and makes it to the bottom of the stairs before the door flies open and Jessica is there, pulling Malcolm into a hug. Malcolm hugs her back, clinging to her like he’s drowning and she’s his rescue. Gil stalls, turning away to give them what privacy he can. He can hear them whispering but can’t make out the words, and doesn’t try. 

“Malcolm, oh my baby. Where have you been?” he hears Jessica ask and he turns to watch them once more.

“They sent me away,” Malcolm answers quietly. “To another place and I couldn’t do anything, or tell anyone.”

They’ve separated from their embrace and tears are staining both of their cheeks. Jessica is cradling Malcolm’s face between both hands, and when he finishes speaking she presses a kiss to his forehead before dropping her hands to his shoulders. She looks him up and down, taking in his outfit with a look that’s mostly curiosity with a hint of disgust. It’s so very  _ Jessica _ that it almost makes Gil laugh.

The sound dies in his throat when Jessica finally notices him and he freezes in place.

“Detective Arroyo?” she gasps. “Or, no, it’s Lieutenant now, isn’t it? Don’t tell me I have you to thank for rescuing my son once again?”

As Jessica speaks Malcolm looks between them, confusion evident on his face, forehead creased in thought. When Jessica mentions being rescued he scoffs, his expression shifting to one of disgust that cuts Gil to the bone.

“Hello, Jessica. It’s been a while,” he replies. “It’s a bit of a long story.”

Jessica turns her attention back to Malcolm, noting his expression and looking him over once more. Gil can tell the moment she sees the bonding mark on Malcolm’s shoulder. As a beta it’s likely she can’t smell that Malcolm is bonded, but the mottled bruising of the mark is clear as day. She steps back, hand flying up to cover her mouth as she gasps in shock.

Malcolm drops his head, color rising in his cheeks. “A lot’s happened,” he tells her without looking up.

Jessica composes herself and settles a gentle hand against Malcolm’s cheek once more, tilting his head up so she can meet his eyes.

“Malcolm, why don’t you go upstairs to your old room? You look exhausted and we can talk when you’ve rested. I think the Lieutenant and I have some things to discuss.”

For a moment it seems that Malcolm will argue, but his shoulders sag and he nods and steps inside.

“Malcolm,” Gil calls out, stepping up onto the first step and barely resisting the urge to reach out and stop the omega from walking away from him.

Malcolm pauses briefly but doesn’t turn. He goes inside and out of Gil’s sight.

“Gil, you should come in,” Jessica tells him, voice flat, expression stony. 

He can’t tell what she’s thinking, if she realizes it’s him her son is bonded to or not. But he nods and trudges slowly up the stairs, feeling as if he’s walking to his own execution.

She leads him into the sitting room, the same room where he’d arrested her husband 15 years ago. She gestures to a chair and settles into one facing it. Gil sits slowly, holding himself stiffly as he prepares for what is sure to be an unpleasant conversation.

“What happened to my son?” she demands as soon as he’s seated.

“Jessica, when was the last time you heard from Malcolm?” Gil counters. From what Malcolm had said, it seems that Jessica has no idea of what her son has been through or where he’s even been the last several years.

She seems taken aback by the question.

“What? How is that…?”

“Do you have any knowledge of his whereabouts the last few years?” Gil presses. He can feel anger rising inside of him, furious at the knowledge that a mother could just pass her child—regardless of their age—off to complete strangers and then forget about them completely.

“He was at the Summerfield Institute. He went when he was 18, like most omegas do in our social circle. We… lost touch. I tried to contact him, tried to ask the school about him, but they brushed me off. They assured me he was fine, that he didn’t want to speak to me. I thought, well, I don’t know. That he found an alpha? That he didn’t want to be associated with our family. He changed his name, did you know? As soon as he got there. To Bright instead of Whitly.”

Gil can hear the pain in her voice, the genuine hurt at the thought that her son had abandoned her, ashamed of his family name. He softens, his judgement of her lessening somewhat in the face of this new information. Especially the name change. He can’t help but wonder if that had been Malcolm’s idea or the school’s? It would be easier to pass him off to another organization if he had a different name.

“Lieutenant,” Jessica says, pulling him from his thoughts. “What. Happened?”

“Your son was sold, Jessica. The Institute sold Malcolm’s contract to an organization that trains omegas to be sold at black market auctions.”

“Sold? Black market… Gil? What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that 48 hours ago Malcolm was being put up for sale to the highest bidder. I’m saying that he was drugged and forced into a heat that very nearly killed him.”

It’s harsh. He could have softened the blow. But it’s satisfying to see the way Jessica pales, hand coming to rest over her heart as her mouth drops open in shock. She may not have known what had happened to Malcolm, but she’d still willingly signed away her son’s freedom, giving him over to strangers to do with as they pleased.

“How… how could this happen? Summerfield could  _ never  _ do something like that. Their reputation is spotless.”

“Because once an omega is in their hands they can do whatever they want, and you know that. You all know it, you just don’t want to admit it. It’s easier for you to let someone else handle the stress of finding a proper match for your children, regardless of the methods they employ.”

Jessica looks appropriately cowed and he can see tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

“He’s bonded,” she whispers.

Gil takes a deep breath, leaning forward, elbows on his knees as he considers his next words.

“Yes. It was necessary to counteract the drug that brought on his heat. There was no other antidote, it had to be done. To save his life,” Gil explains, and he manages to keep his voice steady when he says it.

“Necessary?” Jessica exclaims.

“To save his life, yes.”

“And who’s the alpha my son is now bonded to?”

“Me,” Gil replies immediately, before he can second guess himself.

“You?” Jessica whispers. “You bonded with my son?”

Gil nods, throat suddenly tight. 

“While he was drugged, during a forced heat?” 

Another nod, and he can’t bring himself to look her in the eyes.

“Get out,” Jessica hisses.

Gil’s head snaps up, surprised by the venom in her tone.

“Jessica—”

“It’s Mrs. Whitly. Now, Lieutenant Arroyo. I want you out,” she demands, rising to her feet and pointing to the door.

Gil stands, scrambling to think of something he could say to assuage her anger. It’s deserved, he knows, and whatever excuses he makes, though valid, won’t change the fact that he’d bonded Malcolm against his will. But they are bonded now, and Gil can’t bear the thought of walking away without at least trying to make  _ something _ work.

“Mrs. Whitly. I know that what happened, what I did, is terrible. But I swear to you, I never would have laid a hand on your son if I had any other choice. He had hours left to live, and an antidote would have taken days. I did what I did to save his life.”

Jessica listens, her expression cold, hands curled into fists at her side. 

“I won’t force Malcolm into a relationship he doesn't want,” Gil continues softly. “But I would like nothing more than to try to make things work. To be the mate Malcolm deserves. I’m not—I’m not a bad man, despite the circumstances. You know that; you know  _ me _ .”

“What do you want me to do, Gil?” Jessica asks, her voice low and dangerous. “Do you want me to go upstairs and drag my son out of his room, hand him off to you?”

“No, Jessica. If that’s what I wanted I never would have brought him here,” Gil replies, voice cold as he reminds her of his rights as a bonded alpha. “I’d like your assurances that you’ll give me a chance. That you’ll ask him to give me a chance to make something work.”

“Well it’s not like he has much choice now. You’ll both be miserable by the end of the day. I’m sure he’ll be begging for you in no time. You made sure of that.”

Gil chuckles sadly. “I wouldn’t be so sure. He’s stubborn. And I won’t force him to do anything he doesn’t want to.”

“More than you already have?” she bites out.

Gil sighs, rubbing his face with a hand. She’s right and he knows it, but… “What was I supposed to do, Jessica? Tell me honestly. Would it have been better to let him die?” he asks, quiet and sincere.

She sinks down onto the arm of a chair, a deep sadness settling over her as she considers the question. “No, of course not,” she whispers. “And I’m so glad to have him back. So glad that you brought him back to me. I’ll talk to him for you. I promise. But I think you should go now.”

Gil nods in agreement. He pulls out his wallet and hands Jessica one of his cards. It has his work number and personal cell on it.

“Please tell him to contact me anytime. I’ll be there for him, whatever he needs.”

Jessica takes the card and nods, and Gil sees himself out. It physically hurts to walk away from Malcolm, and he wonders if the omega feels the same, or if his anger and disgust are enough to counteract the pull of the bond. 

Driving away from the Whitly house is one of the hardest things he’s ever done. It feels so wrong to leave his omega behind. He feels as if he’s abandoning him, leaving him uncared for and unprotected. It isn’t true, of course. Jessica can provide for her son just fine, can give him more than Gil ever could. But his instincts still scream at him to turn around, to go back and find his omega, to claim him once more and take him with him. He stamps the thought out, pushing it forcefully from his mind. He’d give the kid the world if Malcolm asked for it, but right now what he needs is space and distance.

He goes home, but only to change into clean clothes. He heads back to the precinct as soon as he’s done, grabbing a burger on the way. Technically, he’s still working a case, and while he’s sure Dani and JT have been covering for him, he can only avoid going back for so long. 

There will be questions, of course, and crude jokes from alphas who still act like it’s the 1950s, when omegas were kept for breeding and allowed to do little else. He’ll deal with it all as it comes. For now, he channels his instinctual desire to protect Malcolm into ensuring that the case against the black marketers is airtight so that the people who had hurt Malcolm are brought fully to justice. All the while, he ignores the low grade ache in his chest that comes from knowing that his omega is out of his reach.


	6. Home

Malcolm has never felt more relieved than he does when his mother suggests that he go upstairs and sleep. Not only is he truly exhausted, but he’s becoming increasingly overwhelmed by everything that’s happened over the last day. Days? He isn’t even sure. He doesn’t even know what day it is, and he feels another wave of panic building within him, threatening to overwhelm him at the realization of the lost time. He forces down the panic and heads inside. Maybe he’s avoiding his problems, but right now he isn’t capable of dealing with them anyways.

He knows that he and Jessica have so much to talk about, but that can wait. And Gil, well. He doesn’t even know where to begin, how to process anything involving the alpha,  _ his  _ alpha, now.

His alpha, who knows his mother, who seems so familiar and yet the memories are just out of his reach. His alpha who he  _ doesn’t want, _ anyways.

He hears Gil say his name as he’s walking inside, and his damned body reacts before he even realizes. He pauses and nearly turns back towards him, but he buries the urge just like he’s buried every other emotion and response. It’s just another problem that he adds to his mental list of things to address later. After sleep. After a real shower, and some food. When the residual effects of the heat have all disappeared, and he can’t smell Gil anymore.

He goes to his old room and it’s just as he’d left it. There are even clothes in the dresser and closet still so he strips out of the ill-fitting sweats he’s wearing and throws them down the hall, as far from him as he can. He doesn’t want to wake up to the memory of that place, of what happened. 

He falls into bed,  _ his  _ bed, and though sleep has never come easy to him—just one of the many marks against him, nothing like a docile omega should be—he drifts off almost as soon as his head hits the pillow.

He’s pulled into partial wakefulness not long after, something prickling at his subconscious, his senses suddenly alert to… something, he’s not sure what. It’s a strange ache, a dull pain in his chest, an emptiness he’s never felt before. He falls back to sleep before he can examine it any further or determine the source of the feeling, and the last thing he hears is the sound of a car pulling away.

When he wakes up fully, he can tell that it’s evening, the orange glow of the setting sun is filtering in through the window. He stretches languidly, and though he can feel a few aches from… from before… it’s nothing too noticeable and, overall, he feels completely back to normal. 

Nearly back to normal. There’s still a discomfort he can’t quite shake, an empty, achy feeling. He’d thought he’d been dreaming, earlier, when it first set in, but it’s still there. He dismisses it; it’s easy enough to ignore.

He picks out some clean clothes: soft flannel pants, an old t-shirt, and a fleece pullover, and makes his way into the en-suite to indulge in a long, hot shower. He uses twice as much soap and shampoo as he needs too, scrubbing away every last scent that he doesn’t want and any other reminders that might be left of the last few days.

He finishes reluctantly, turning off the water and wrapping himself in an oversized towel as he steps out of the shower. There’s a knock at the door a few moments later and his mother’s voice floats in from the hall.

“Malcolm, love, are you hungry?” 

He smiles at the sound of her voice. He’s missed her, so much. Despite the bitterness he’d felt earlier, he knows she’d meant well. She’d thought that distancing him from his father’s legacy was the best thing for him; she couldn’t have known how things would turn out.

“Yes mother, thank you. I’ll be out soon,” he replies, drying off quickly, his stomach rumbling at the mere mention of food.

His clothes are a little snug but they fit well enough. He’d put on some muscle mass while he’d been gone. One thing that his  _ trainers _ had been absolute sticklers for was physical health and fitness. They’d kept them on strict diets and a regimented fitness plan, ensuring that their merchandise was not only healthy, but physically attractive as well. Every aspect of his life had been carefully controlled in order to turn him into the ideal omega specimen, ripe for the picking. 

He sighs and clears his mind of those thoughts, those memories. It’s all behind him, now. Time to move on. With that reminder planted firmly in the forefront of his mind, he heads downstairs.

His mother is sitting in her favorite chair in the sitting room, book in hand, though he can tell she isn’t really reading it, her gaze fixed on an empty spot on the wall. As soon as he comes down the stairs, she drops the book into her lap, sitting up on the edge of her seat.

“Malcolm, dear. How are you feeling? Come, sit. Dinner will be ready soon,” she tells him.

He goes willingly, settling into the chair next to hers. She reaches a hand out towards him and he takes it, squeezing gently as she looks him over with a careful, loving gaze.

“Do you feel better?” she asks softly.

“Yes, much better. And I’m sure I’ll feel even better after I eat,” he assures her.

They sit in silence for a moment, neither of them sure how to proceed.

“Malcolm, I am so, so sorry,” Jessica says finally, breaking the silence. “I had, I had  _ no idea _ what would happen, that any of this could happen.” Her voice breaks, sorrow and regret clogging her throat, twisting her face into a mask of pain.

Malcolm has to look away as he wars with his own emotions. His gaze falls on their clasped hands and he keeps it there, studying the lines of their interlocked fingers as he struggles to form a response.

“Why did you send me away?” he whispers. “And why didn’t you try to find me?” Right now, they’re the only questions that matter. He can’t think about anything else until he knows the  _ why _ behind everything that had happened.

“Oh, my love, my darling boy. I thought. I wanted… to give you a chance. To distance you from this place, from your father, the Whitly legacy,” she explains, words hesitant and unsure as she searches for an explanation.

He remembers her saying something similar, when she’d first told him that he was leaving, all those years ago. That she’d found a place where he could improve his chances. Back then she’d been constantly drunk, still struggling to come to terms with her husband's shocking crimes and the impact it had had on her entire life. Perhaps she’d meant well, but deep down he suspects that she just couldn’t handle the thought of being responsible for him any longer. 

He winces. Even to her, he’s just a commodity. Something to be passed on as quickly as possible, improved upon and handed off again to whichever alpha was fool enough to take him. 

“I wanted you to have a chance,” Jessica says once more with a sigh. “And you couldn’t have that, here. Not after your father was arrested, not with me as your mother,” she admits.

He glances up at that. It’s the first time she’s ever admitted to her own failings and it surprises him. 

“Your sister is lucky. She’s a beta; she can be whoever she wants to be, choose anyone, and no one will bat an eye. And she never remembered much of your father, she wasn’t as  _ affected _ as you were.”

“Where is she?” Malcolm asks. He hasn’t seen or talked to Ainsley in so long, he’s not sure if he would even recognize her, or if she even remembers him.

“School. She wants to be a journalist of all things. I told her you were home, though. She’s coming over tomorrow, first thing in the morning.”

He smiles, happy for her, happy to know that she’s so eager to see him.

His chest aches again, the dull throb that he’d managed to push to the back of his mind making itself known once more, and he rubs at his chest absently.

“Are you alright dear?” his mother asks.

He smiles absently back at her, nodding. It’s clear by the look on her face that she doesn’t believe him, but she doesn't press.

“Why don’t I go see about dinner? We can finish this little chat afterwards.” She’s on her feet and out the door before Malcolm can even reply, but that’s alright with him. 

He knows they have to talk about what happened, about what’s going to happen next. Maybe not all of it tonight, but eventually, and he’d rather get it over with, clear the air. But he can smell whatever is for dinner already, and it’s making his stomach rumble, so he's more than happy to take a break.

***

Dinner is simple but delicious, and eaten mostly in silence, neither of them wanting to ruin the meal with potentially sour subjects. Malcolm asks about Ainsley again, eager to hear more about his baby sister who’d barely been a teen when he’d left and is now in college. Jessica is more than happy to gush over Ainsley’s academic achievements and bemoan her lack of serious romantic relationships. Malcolm sits back and listens, a small, contented smile playing over his lips. It’s all so very familiar, almost like he’d never left. His mother’s voice sounds the same, she’s just as melodramatic as ever, and she hardly looks like she’s aged at all. 

The most obvious difference is that she’s sober. Her eyes are focused and her speech is clear and precise. She’s sipping at a glass of wine with her dinner, so she hasn’t stopped drinking entirely. But she isn’t drunk. He can’t remember the last time they’d had dinner when she hadn’t been intoxicated. His smile deepens. In spite of everything, he’s happy for her. Happy to see her well, healthy.

When dinner is over they return to the sitting room. Jessica goes to the sideboard and pulls out a decanter of amber liquid, raising a glass in his direction in a silent query. He nods.

Ironically enough, part of his education had included a fairly in depth introduction to a variety of sophisticated liquors. His mother would be thrilled to know that his palette is as refined as ever, with tastes befitting a Whitly.

He idly wonders what Gil Arroyo’s drink of choice is, and he pictures the older man in his den, lounging back in an armchair, fingers lightly grasped around a glass tumbler… 

The picture springs unbidden to his mind before he can catch it, startling him with it’s clarity, and with it the ache in his chest returns full force, too intense to be ignored. He sucks in a sharp breath, hand shooting up to press against his chest, over his heart, and he rubs at it, willing the ache to go away, forcing the image of the alpha— _ your Alpha _ , his traitorous mind supplies—from his head.

“Malcolm, love, are you alright?” Jessica asks, voice dripping concern, face pinched in worry.

He sighs and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to  _ get a grip _ on his reactions to one silly, little thought. He nods, eyes still closed, and lowers his hand slowly, though the ache hasn’t dissipated. 

When he finally opens his eyes, it’s to see his mother watching him, a tender, knowing look in her eyes as she waits. She doesn’t say anything, just hands him his glass, which he takes gratefully. Alcohol will not solve any of his problems, he knows this. But it will definitely make the evening’s conversation much, much easier to endure. He takes a sip, humming in appreciation even as the liquid burns a path down his throat. Only the best for his mother, of course. It’s smooth and flavorful, and exactly the sort of liquid courage that he needs. Another sip and he’s ready. He leans back, resting the tumbler on his thigh and looks across at his mother.

“What do you want to know?” he asks.

It will be easier to answer her questions than to try to tell her everything that had happened in the last six years. And most of it she doesn’t need to know, anyways.

“Did they treat you well? Were you… are you  _ alright _ ?” She’s asked him so many times, and he knows what she really wants to know is  _ ‘did they ruin you beyond repair,’ _ and  _ ‘how guilty should I feel about sending you away in the first place.’ _ She wants to know if, in her attempts to distance him from his father’s dark shadow, she had handed him over to even worse monsters.

He’d been lucky, really. There  _ are  _ worse monsters out there, who easily could have gotten their hands on him if the dice had fallen any differently. Luckily for him, no one pays really good money for damaged goods. The ones who shell out the most cash pay so they can break their new toys themselves. They don’t want their toys to be broken already.

“They treated me well, mother. Until the end and that was just… poor luck. They needed a, a party favor, and I guess I drew the short stick somehow. But that was the only time,” he tries to assure her. “What… uh, how much did… did  _ he  _ tell you?” he asks.

A shadow of sorrow passes over his mother’s face, there and gone again as she composes herself quickly, stoic and unaffected once more, something she’s had years of practice doing. 

“Gil?” she asks, and there’s that hint of familiarity in her tone again, the use of his first name rather than his title.

He doesn't answer, just gives her a pointed look, eyebrow raised. She knows that’s who he means.

“He told me enough. That you were… he explained how he’d found you. How he came to bond with you,” she continues, choosing her words carefully. 

He’s sure Gil told her more, but he doesn’t need her to say it. 

“How do you know him?” he asks.

“Sweetheart, you have to say his name eventually,” Jessica points out gently. 

He huffs. “Maybe. But you know who I mean. So spill.”

“You don’t remember?”

“I… I’m not sure. It was all sort of a blur, when we... met,” he hedges. He doesn’t know how to explain it. When he’d seen Gil first--when he’d been on display, before he’d been drugged--he’d felt some sort of connection, a spark of recognition he couldn’t quite place. But he can’t put words to it, and he's happy to use the excuse of drugs and heat to avoid talking about it further.

“Gil is the officer who arrested your father,” Jessica says.

Malcolm’s jaw drops and he’s suddenly bombarded with flashes of memories from a time that he had hidden away in his mind as best as he could. Realizing what his father was, calling the police, his father being taken away. And the officer who’d first responded—kind brown eyes, patient smile. He hadn’t been patronizing when Malcolm had told him what his father was planning. He’d believed him immediately, and it had probably saved both of their lives.

Afterwards he’d called Malcolm a hero. Called him brave. He remembers, now. A little more gray in the beard, but those eyes…

He snaps himself out of it, returning to the present and pushing thoughts of Gil from his mind.

“I… I didn’t realize that,” he admits. “I remember now, though.”

“He checked in on you. And Ainsley. Often. He’s a good man.”

Malcolm scoffs at that, he can’t help it. There’s still so much bitterness in him, about the whole situation. And it’s not Gil’s fault, not most of it. He never asked for this, either. Malcolm knows this, logically. But emotionally he’s still a mess.

“Malcolm, love,” Jessica says hesitantly, leaning forward and resting a hand on his knee. 

He raises a hand, cutting her off.

“Not right now,” he pleads.

She purses her lips, but nods and sits back.

“Do you have any more questions?” he asks.

“I want to know everything,” Jessica admits with a bitter laugh. “But, I don’t want to press. Malcolm, I promise, I had no idea. If I thought, even for a moment that you would be… that something like this could have happened I never would have sent you away.”

Malcolm sighs and takes another sip of whiskey. He believes her, obviously. And he can understand why she would have thought Summerfield was the best place for him. It had been, too. Before… 

“Mother, enough. We can’t change the past. What happened, happened,” he says firmly. “I’ll tell you what happened, and then it will be over with. Behind us, and we’ll never bring it up again. All right?”

Jessica’s eyes grow wide. She seems startled by his sudden declaration, but nods in agreement after a moment’s hesitation. “You’re right, darling. Of course. Whatever you want to tell me, I’ll listen. And then we’ll put it all behind us.”

Malcolm sighs in relief. It’s easy to get it all off his chest if he knows he’ll only have to do it once.

“Summerfield was wonderful. Everything they promised they would be,” he begins. “You have wonderful taste, as always. It was like any other higher education institute. Yes, the topics were sometimes more… particular, to our situations. But the setting was perfect. They treated us well, just like any other students. Or so I assume,” he quips. Perhaps there is some bitterness he can’t quite hide. Jessica has the decency to flush as the jab, the reminder that he really has no idea what normal students experience.

“I don’t know why they decided to pass me along to another organization. I thought I was doing well.” It’s a painful admission. He’d had his share of struggles, mostly due to his nightmares and occasional bout of stubbornness. But overall he’d conformed quite well to the standards Summerfield had for their omegas. Or so he thought. “Regardless,” he continues, pushing past the hurt, “they passed me along, for what I was assured was a  _ very  _ good price.” The bitterness is there again, in his tone. It’s not directed at Jessica this time, but she winces nonetheless. “I don’t even know what they called themselves to be honest. Once they took us it was just… the new normal. We had no choice. But they weren’t bad. They treated us well. It was like Summerfield, really. Just less glamorous.”

It had been, too. He isn’t sugar coating or making it easier for her to hear. His handlers—trainers, owners, teachers. They’d each had a different way of referring to themselves—had been concerned with three things: That their omegas be kept healthy, that they be kept fit, and that they be well-behaved. Their  _ happiness  _ was of no concern, and for the most part their comfort was secondary as well. But they were never mistreated. Just… treated as merchandise.

He gets lost in his own recollections and isn’t even sure how much time passes while he thinks. Jessica says nothing. She waits patiently, and when he finally meets her eyes once more she’s watching him carefully, with love and regret in her eyes.

“I’m sure you won’t be surprised to know that I was less quick to conform than my counterparts,” he tells her with a self-depreciating grin. He hopes she takes it for the joke it is.

She smiles back, a genuine mirth that reaches her eyes. “You? No?”

He chuckles.

“You know what happened, at the end. The details are… unimportant. They may have been slightly more crass in their approach, but I’m sure the lessons were the same as they would have been at Summerfield. How to behave, how to please. Always about making your alpha happy.” The bitterness is back. He hated being defined by his biology. He was so much more than just an omega, but they didn’t care. No one ever does.

“Malcolm, I—”

“No. No more. It’s done, it’s over,” he insists.

Jessica sighs, and he can see the shine of tears in her eyes, though they don’t fall, not yet.

“Thank you, Malcolm,” she whispers, leaning forward to take his free hand in hers. “Now, about this alpha of yours,” she begins.

Malcolm pulls his hand back, scowling. He finishes off the whiskey in his glass, clutching tightly to the tumbler, glad that the glass is as thick as it is.

“I know you aren’t happy with the situation,” Jessica presses. “And I understand. What happened isn’t fair. To either of you. You were both put in an unwinnable position.”

He gives her a sharp look, surprised by her neutrality.

“I can assure you that Gil is a good man. I know that’s hard for you to see right now, and I understand. I won’t push you to do anything you don’t want to do. But, I think you know that you can’t avoid him forever,” she says, her voice disgustingly sweet and gentle.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” he snarls. “He made damn sure of that. I don’t even know what I want.” He can feel the tears forming in his own eyes, now. “I have… I’m nothing, now. Just a useless omega. A bonded omega, bonded to a man I don’t even know and I… I don’t want to just be his fucking  _ breeder _ .” He doesn’t mean to be so honest, and certainly doesn't mean to be so crass. But the words spill out before he can stop them. All of the pain and frustration and uncertainty he’s been pushing to the back of his mind boiling over.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… you didn’t deserve that,” he gasps out before Jessica can respond to his tirade. 

“Oh,  _ Malcolm _ . My dear. You would have  _ died _ ,” she reminds him. “Is that what you want?”

He sobs, dropping his head into his hands. He can’t help it. He’d told Gil he’d rather be dead, and he’s not sure it isn’t still true. He doesn’t even know what the point in being alive is, anymore. 

“Oh, my love. I understand. Well, no,” she chuckles, mirthlessly. “I don’t understand. How could I? But, I’m here for you. And I promise, I won’t push you. Truly. I just… I think you should know. Gil is a  _ good man _ . And he won’t push you, either. He assured me of that. But he will be there for you, whenever you need him. For any reason.”

Malcolm lets out a long, slow exhale, raising his head to meet her eyes once more. He nods, taking her words to heart. It isn’t fair to put all of his anger and blame on the Lieutenant. He’d saved his life, after all. And, now that he’s home again, he realizes he really doesn’t want to be dead. He’s starting over, yes. But the whole world is in front of him, now. Whatever he wants to be, he can be. It may take time and work. But he isn’t stuck, not like he could be. Yes, he may be stuck with Gil. An older alpha, one he knows next to nothing about. But, from everything he’s experienced, and from what his own mother has told him, it could be worse.

He knows that’s true. For all intents and purposes, the alpha owns him now. He could have taken Malcolm to his own home and locked him in the basement, bred him till he was full of his seed and left him there till the baby came. It’s what he’d been expecting, honestly, when they’d pulled him on that stage naked and put him up for sale. This was always going to happen. So why is he so upset that Gil is the one who’d claimed him in the end?

“I’d like to go to bed now,” he whispers.

“Of course, love. Of course. Everything else can wait until the morning. And your sister will be here! She’ll be so happy to see you!”

“What will we tell her?” Malcolm asks, a fresh wave of worry washing over him.

“That you’ve finished your studies and found a nice alpha, but wanted to come home for a while to see your family,” Jessica replies firmly. “She’ll see your bond mark, but she doesn’t need to know anything else.”

Malcolm nods gratefully. “Okay. Yeah, that… that sounds good. Thank you.”

“Of course, dear. Now, off to bed. I love you, Malcolm.”

He’s at the stairs already when she says it, and he pauses, hand on the railing, looking back at her with wide, tear filled eyes.

“I love you too, Mother,” he replies. He walks up to his room, unable to remember the last time he’d felt so… good. Content. Loved.


	7. History

Gil waits—patiently, calmly—for Dani to return to her desk. He’s not fidgeting, and he certainly isn’t nervous. He just wants to be sure to catch her before she leaves to do her interview.

“Boss, what’s up?” she asks as soon as she sees him perched on the corner of her desk, and judging by the concern in her voice, he must not be doing a very good job of playing it cool.

“You’re going to go see Malcolm today, right?” Gil asks, and he tries very hard to keep his tone professionally curious and not desperately needy.

“Yeah, we never got his statement. Why?” Dani shifts, nervous, Gil’s demeanor clearly putting her on edge.

He sighs and gives her a self-deprecating smile, shaking his head at his own foolishness. “Sorry Dani, everything’s fine, I promise. Could you do me a favor?”

Dani is still looking at him suspiciously, but she relaxes, tilting her head as her own curiosity wins out over whatever concern she’d been feeling previously. “Sure boss. What do you need?”

“Can you give Malcolm this, tell him it’s from me. You don’t have to say anything else. I just… want him to know I’m thinking about him,” Gil admits. 

“Candy?” Dani asks, bemused, as she takes the single piece of cellophane wrapped hard candy.

“It’s… he’ll understand. I hope,” Gil replies with a shrug. There’s too much history there to unpack for her. He only hopes Malcolm remembers, or that Jessica is willing to remind him if he doesn’t. He hopes Malcolm sees it as the token of affection that it is.

Dani slips the candy into her pocket without any further questions, shaking her head in fond exasperation as she does.

His team is fully aware that he’s been pining. He hasn’t let it affect his work, he’s made sure of that, and they would call him out if it was. But he has caught their exasperated eyerolls and the looks they pass each other when they think he isn’t paying attention, or that he’s too lost in thought to notice.

JT had admitted after the first day that he doesn’t know how Gil has managed to stay away from the Whitly house. It’s only been a few days, but things aren’t getting any easier. Every morning, when Gil wakes up alone, he’s immediately aware of the tight band of discomfort that’s constantly squeezing around his chest, the aching need from which he can’t quite be distracted, no matter what he does. Mornings are the hardest, the pain twofold, because he’s reminded of when he’d lost Jackie. Waking up in bed, alone, feeling the ache of missing his partner… he’d just started to forget what it was like, and now he was feeling that ache all over again, because of Malcolm. 

“Anything else you want me to tell him, boss?” Dani asks softly as she prepares to leave.

Gil sighs again, shoulders slumping. “I don’t know what else there is to say,” he admits. “I don’t know what I can do but... wait.”

“He’ll come around, Gil,” Dani assures him, squeezing his shoulder affectionately, the way _he_ usually does for _her_. “I’ll make sure to only say good things, if you happen to come up in conversation.”

Gil snorts, shaking his head fondly. He pats the hand still resting on her shoulder, then stands, shaking off his melancholy. “Thanks, Dani. Now, enough slacking. Get back to work,” he mock orders, shoving her gently towards the door.

***

Malcolm would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. He’s been trying to put the whole ordeal of the auction behind him ever since he got home, and he knows the questions the officer will ask are going to be… invasive. His mother had hinted that she could make the whole thing go away, that he didn’t have to talk to anybody if he didn’t want to. He’d considered it, briefly, but… if it were just about the auction, his statement wouldn’t matter. But omegas had _died_ , and he’d almost been one of them, and if justice is going to be served for those deaths, he needs to do his part.

He’s waiting in the sitting room, alone, thankfully. His mother had left him with a steaming cup of calming tea that he hasn’t touched—he can smell the alcohol she’d spiked it with from where he sits. She’d wanted to stay, and so had Ainsley, but he’d firmly refused. There were things they didn’t need to know.

Seeing Ainsley again had been a shock. She’d been a child when he left, and now she’s practically an adult. She’d been thrilled to see him, jumping into his arms and wrapping him in a tight hug the moment she’d walked in the door. Even though she was older, she sounded the same, and it only took the span of an evening for memory-Ainsley and real-Ainsley to be reconciled in his mind once more. They’d fallen back into their normal sibling banter easily, like he’d never left. But he’d missed so much, so many milestones, and as she’d caught him up on all the things she’d been up to in the last six years there’d been an underlying tension, the unspoken question of _where were you_ and _why weren’t you here_? 

His mother had spun an effortless lie about his whereabouts, making him wonder what she’d been telling Ainsley all these years about his absence. Had his sister never asked? Never wondered? By the end of their first evening together again as a family Malcolm is quietly seething, furious once more about everything that had been stolen from him by Summerfield, by the nameless organization that had bought his contract, bought _him,_ by his mother, who’d sent him away in the first place.

He went to bed early that night, and cried himself to sleep.

A knock at the front door pulls Malcolm from his musings, and his heart begins to race. He wipes his palms on his pants and stands when the maid shows the officer in.

She introduces herself as Detective Dani Powell and shakes his hand before taking the seat opposite him. While she looks around the room, taking in her surroundings, he studies her. She seems vaguely familiar, and he supposes she must have been on scene at the auction, which makes him blush a bit as he wonders how much she’d seen.

“Nice place,” she observes, turning her attention back to him. 

“Thanks, it’s been in the family for a while,” Malcolm replies. “Would you like anything to drink? Water, tea, coffee?”

“I’m alright, thank you. Are you ready to get started?” she asks, professional, but kind, her relaxed manner helping to ease his nerves, if only slightly. 

“Yeah, let’s get this over with,” Malcolm replies. He sits back in his seat, hands clasped together in his lap, and tries not to fidget.

“I just have a few questions I need to ask you. You’re not a suspect, of course, but if you’d like to have a lawyer present you are entitled to that-”

“I don’t need a lawyer. Ask away,” Malcolm assures her. He just wants to get it over with.

“Can you tell me, in your own words, what happened on the evening of the 8th?” Dani starts.

“Was uh, was that the day of the auction? I… sort of lost track of the days,” he explains, eyes fixed on his hands. It’s a strange thing to admit, that his life had been so tightly controlled by others that he hadn’t known what day it was, that he could barely keep track of the months sometimes. The passage of time hadn’t been relevant to his day to day life, then.

“Yes, the day of the auction,” Dani confirms.

“Well. We’d been there all day, getting ready. They, uh, there were eight of us, I think? Anyways, they made sure we all showered and uh,” Malcolm pauses, blushing deeper. “How much do you need to know?” he asks, glancing up at the Detective.

She smiles gently. “Whatever you're comfortable telling me. I can ask for more information if I need it. A general overview is fine, for now.”

Malcolm sucks in a breath, nodding gratefully at her before dropping his eyes once more and continuing. “They got us all ready and brought us out to the main room, where the, uh, the buyers were.”

“I’m sorry, but when you say they, can you be more specific?” Dani presses gently, and he can hear the sound of her pen as she takes notes.

“Um, the handlers. I don’t even know their names, honestly. That was the first night I’d met them, they didn’t work with us at the training center.”

“So, the people running the auction weren’t the same ones who were operating the organisation?”

“I don’t think so? I think the auction was their only job. But I could be wrong.”

“That’s fine, we can look into it further. Please, continue.”

Malcolm exhales slowly, then presses on. “Uh, they… they showed us to the buyers, then brought us back to the holding area? I guess. I think that’s when they drugged me. They gave us all water, some food. Things get blurry after that. They brought me to a different room, but I don’t even remember what happened next. I guess they… chained me, to the bed. And left me there. No one came in. Not until, uh…” he trails off, the blush returning.

“I understand. I was there when they found you,” Dani tells him gently. “So, no one administered any drugs to you directly?”

“No,” Malcolm answers firmly. “It had to have been in my food. I realized what was happening, I could feel the heat coming on. I was still coherent for a while. I can remember _that_ , so I would remember if they gave me something.”

“Okay. Thank you. Would you be able to identify any of the handlers who were there that evening?”

“Yes,” Malcolm grits out. “I could recognize all of them.” A sharp flare of anger surges through him as their faces spring into the forefront of his mind. Not just their faces, but their words, their touches, the way they’d _prepared_ the omegas, treating them like merchandise, looking over every inch of them with cool, calculating gazes. Most of them had remained clinical, detached, but there were two who had _enjoyed_ themselves. They’d returned, again and again, to poke and prod, to look and feel. They’d both come to Malcolm at once and forced him to show them the lessons that had been ingrained into him at the center, forced him to present, in a variety of positions, all the while commenting lewdly at the way his body was put on display in each pose. They’d wanted to do more, he could tell. He’s sure that if they’d had more time they would have demanded a hands on demonstration of his _skills_.

“Malcolm? Malcolm, are you okay?” Dani asks, shaking him gently by the shoulder.

He flinches, blinking rapidly as he returns to the present, pushing the memories back. “I’m sorry,” he gasps. “I uh… I don’t know what happened.”

“That’s okay. I’m sure this is difficult.”

Malcolm nods, trying to calm his racing heart and stuttered breathing. “Yeah, it’s… they weren’t. They aren’t nice people,” he finally manages to say. “You said you were there? Were the other omegas okay?” he asks, desperate for a distraction.

“Yeah. Yeah, they all made it out fine. They’re all safe, now. Just like you. All that is over, now,” Dani assures him. 

He smiles sadly. It doesn’t feel like it’s over. It feels like the struggle is only beginning. But he doesn’t say that. He knows what she means.

“Are you okay with looking at some pictures, Malcolm? Identifying some people?”

He nods, and she pulls a folder out of her bag, spreads several head shots out on the coffee table in front of them. He identifies who he can, tells her what he knows about each one. They had been careful not to say any names and had insisted on being referred to as simply sir or ma’am. But he tells Dani what each person’s job was, how they were involved in the auction.

“Who gave you the food, do you remember?” Dani asks.

“Yeah, it was uh, her, and him,” Malcolm replies, pointing to two different pictures. 

“Even if they didn’t dose you, they’ll know who did,” Dani mutters to herself. “This is good, thank you Malcolm. Between Lieutenant Arroyo’s undercover work and the statements from the omegas, we’ll definitely be able to put these guys away for a long time.”

His face heats at the mention of Gil’s name, and he’s so caught up in the new surge of emotions just thinking about him brings on that he doesn’t notice how closely Dani is watching him, how she’s gauging his reaction to her mention of the Lieutenant.

“Good, that’s good,” Malcolm manages to rasp out. His chest is tight, the dull ache growing into something impossible to ignore as a flood of memories rush over him.

“Do you have any questions for me?” Dani asks, finally interrupting his spiraling thoughts.

“What? Oh, no, I don’t think so. Um. Will I have to testify?”

“We’ll try to keep that from happening. Between the evidence we have on camera and everyone’s statements, hopefully this won’t even go to court and the suspects will all take a plea deal. We’ll stay in touch.”

Malcolm nods, relieved.

Dani gathers the pictures and returns the folder to her bag, along with her notebook, then stands. “Thank you for your help, Malcolm. Your cooperation is very much appreciated.”

“I’m glad I could help,” Malcolm replies, and it’s true. He hopes they all go away for a long time.

Dani reaches into her pocket and pulls out a little candy, handing it over to him.

“Gil asked me to give this to you,” she tells him gently.

He’s half-tempted to snatch his hand back, but instead he takes the candy, brows furrowed in consideration. He looks up from the candy and gives her a questioning look, but she just shrugs. “He didn’t give me any explanation. Just said that he hoped you’d remember, or that your mother could explain?” Dani tells him, clearly as confused as he is.

He examines the candy, the hint of a memory that he can’t quite place lurking just out of reach in the back of his mind.

“I knew him, as a child,” he murmurs, looking up at Dani to gauge her reaction. “He arrested my father. Right here, in this house.”

Saying it out loud, admitting the truth of it to himself releases something within him, and his breath catches in his throat as a wave of emotion, old and new, crashes over him.

Dani reaches out to rest her hand on his elbow, bringing him back to the present for the second time during her visit.

“Hey, Malcolm. I know it’s not my place, but—” 

“Let me guess. Gil is a good guy, he never meant to hurt me. I should give him a chance,” Malcolm interjects, and he can’t quite keep the anger he still feels from escaping as he speaks.

Dani chuckles softly. “Yeah, pretty much,” she admits. “He went there that night to stop a killer. All he wanted to do was keep more omegas from dying. If there had been _any_ other option…” she trails off as Malcolm clenches his jaw in anger and frustration. 

“Can I say one more thing?” Dani asks.

Malcolm looks up, surprised that she would check with him first. He nods.

“He really cares for you. Now that I know there’s a history there, it makes more sense, honestly. He’s… he’s tearing himself apart for what happened. And it kills him not to see you. I know it can’t feel good for you, either.”

Malcolm huffs, rubbing at his chest in an unconscious gesture he isn’t even aware of until she continues. 

“Yeah, he does that a lot, too.”

Malcolm drops his hand quickly.

“Maybe just… think about calling? Or texting, even. He does that. He’s a little slow sometimes. Malcolm, okay, this really isn’t my place,” Dani huffs out, rubbing her forehead. She steps in close, speaking softly, for his ears only, even though there’s no one else in the room. “You’re going to need him eventually, Malcolm. You know that. Now that you’re bonded, you’re not going to be able to just ride out your next heat.”

Malcolm blushes, stepping back and pulling his arm free from where her hand still rested on his elbow. “What? That’s not… you’re right, it’s _not_ your place,” he snaps.

“I know, I know,” Dani agrees, hands raised in acquiescence. “But, as a mostly neutral third party, I think it’s important that you think about this,” she presses on. “You will need him. Think about what kind of a relationship you want to have in place when that day comes, alright? Just… think about it.”

With that she goes, leaving Malcolm standing open-mouthed in shock as he tries to process _what the fuck_ just happened.

He looks down at the candy. He knows that he should know its significance, and yet he can’t quite place it, the memory is just out of reach, like so many of his memories from that time. Lost in a sea of trauma and stress and sadness. But, maybe it hadn’t been all bad? Gil wouldn’t want to remind him of something if it wasn’t going to be a _good_ memory.

“Well, is she gone?” his mother asks as she flounces into the room and to his side, Ainsley trailing behind her.

Ainsley still doesn’t know _why_ he was being questioned by the police. His mother had made up some smooth story about witnessing an accident and he’d gone along with it. He’s not sure if Ainsley had believed a word of it, but she hadn’t pressed, and that’s all he cares about.

“What’s that, dear?” Jessica asks as she looks down to see what’s occupying his attention, and he realizes he’s still staring blankly at the candy.

“A gift,” he replies quietly.

“Is that…? Oh. I see. From Gil?” his mother guesses and his eyes snap up to hers.

“So you know what it means?” he asks.

She frowns at him, eyebrows drawing together as she considers his rather abrupt question. 

“I don’t remember,” he admits.

“What is going on?” Ainsley asks from where she’s standing beside them both, observing their strange interaction.

“Oh, it’s just… something from an old friend in the NYPD. He used to check in on you both when you were children. He’d give you candies whenever he saw you. Ainsley, you were too young, I wouldn’t let you have them, so I’m sure you don’t remember.”

“And Malcolm doesn’t remember anything, anyways,” Ainsley teases. She’d never been one to let him wallow in any sort of self-pity when it came to their childhood, and he’s honestly grateful for it, grateful that their interactions the past couple of days are just as they always were.

“I’m sure it will come back to you, dear.” Jessica assures him. She gives him a fond look, cupping the back of his head and running her fingers through his hair like she had when he was a child.

“Maybe you can tell me about it, later?” he suggests quietly.

She nods and he can see tears forming in her eyes even as she smiles at him. Things have been strained between them, still, though Ainsley’s presence has helped. He’s trying to offer olive branches when he can, and she tries to give him his space when he needs it.

His mother mutters something about making a phone call and rushes out of the room, wiping carefully at her eyes as she goes, leaving Malcolm and Ainsley alone together. When he turns back to his sister, she’s watching him with a calculating look in her eyes that is a little bit frightening.

“Alright bro, spill,” she orders, crossing her arms and staring him down.

“Uh, what?” he flounders.

“I know you and mom are keeping things from me. I can tell. Investigative journalist, remember? So, spill. What’s with the candy, and the cop? And where the hell have you been? Why does mom look like she’s going to cry every time you two talk?”

“I really don’t know anything about the candy,” Malcolm admits. He realizes he’s still holding onto it tightly, and shoves it into his pocket. Out of sight, out of mind, he hopes.

Ainsley raises an unimpressed eyebrow, not backing down.

For a moment, he considers telling her everything. But, it would tear their mother apart, deservedly or not, and he doesn’t want to ruin his family now that he has them back.

“Look, Ains. I swear, there’s no big mystery here. I don’t remember the candy. I witnessed something that the police needed to ask me about. I came home because I missed you both, because I’ve been… busy. At school and. And finding an alpha. And you know mom, she… she just cries,” he finishes lamely.

Ainsley’s eyes are still narrowed, arms still crossed. She doesn’t believe him.

“You changed your name. Mom said so, like, four years ago. I remember, she was drunk and upset. She thought you ran away, that you didn't want to be part of this family anymore,” his sister presses.

Malcolm sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. He forgets about the name change, sometimes, although he doesn’t mind it. The Whitly name carries so much baggage with it. It may not have been his idea, but he likes being Bright. It’s one of the few good things Summerfield did for him.

“I’ll admit,” Malcolm begins with a shake of his head. “I’ll admit that I liked that idea of not being a Whitly. It made things more normal. But I didn’t want to leave you, or mom. I just… needed space. To heal?” He’s making it up as he goes, and even his own answers sound like questions, but Ainsley’s face softens as he speaks. She’s seen the havoc their childhood had wreaked on his psyche. 

“Fine. I’ll buy it, for now. You’re obviously not going to change your story anyways. I better get to meet this alpha of yours soon, too. I can’t believe you didn’t bring them with you.”

“It’s complicated, he’s… busy.”

“He, huh? Are you at least going to tell me his name?” Ainsley presses.

“Why, so you can research him?” Malcolm counters with a pointed look.

She splutters before conceding the point with a nod and a smile.

“Someday, Ains. I promise. It’s a… a weird time, right now. Can you trust me?”

“Of course, bro. Just… tell me off, when I get too nosy, okay?”

“I will. I promise. Now, I have an idea.”

“Oh?” Ainsley asks, perking up.

“Let’s go shopping,” Malcolm suggests.

“Shopping? For what?” 

“I need a phone,” Malcolm admits.

“You don’t have a phone?” Ainsley exclaims, and Malcolm realizes his slip a moment too late.

“It broke! Just before I got here, and I haven’t had the chance to get it replaced,” he lies. He hasn’t had a phone since Summerfield. He’s seen other people use them, and knows that they’re necessary to daily life, now, and Dani’s comment about texting Gil had reminded him that he needed a phone of his own. Not that he plans on texting the alpha. It was just a reminder.

“Well, I’m always ready for some shopping. I take it mom is paying?”

“Definitely,” Malcolm confirms with a sly grin.

“Perfect! Let’s go shopping!”

***

Gil goes home late that evening. He’s been staying at the precinct longer and longer, knocking out a backlog of paperwork and filing reports. Busy work that needs to be done eventually, but not at the pace he’s currently attacking it. He doesn’t like going home to an empty house, though. Plus, doing it now will free up his schedule if and when he has better ways to spend his time. He hopes, someday, he has better ways to spend his time.

He heats up leftovers and sinks into the couch, flipping on the TV to watch sports highlights as he eats. He’s nearly done eating when he gets a follow up text from JT about something they’d been discussing earlier in the evening. He replies, and realizes he has an unread text from earlier in the day. It’s from a number that he doesn’t recognize, and he hadn’t bothered to read it since he’d been at work, but he opens the message now, expecting spam.

It’s not. It’s a short message, four words only, but they send a spike of excitement through him so strong and sudden that he nearly jumps up off the couch, a wide smile stretching across his face.

**_Thanks for the candy._ **


	8. Dinner

Gil doesn’t reply to Malcolm's text. He can’t think of anything to say that doesn’t sound incredibly sappy, and ‘you’re welcome’ seems to go without saying. So he says nothing. He adds the number to his contacts immediately and spends several minutes staring sappily at Malcolm’s name on the screen, heart still pounding with the thrill that the omega had texted  _ him _ , first. 

The next morning he sends a text of his own, a simple ‘Good Morning,’ and then does his best to go about his normal routine. He doesn’t receive a response, and he isn’t really expecting to. But he wants Malcolm to know he’s there, waiting patiently for him, whenever he is ready.

Patience is a skill he’s developed over decades of police work, and he tells himself that waiting for Malcolm is no different than waiting for leads. Except for the constant ache and ever-present longing that borders on painful. Those are unique to this situation. But, with patience, he is able to give Malcolm space, able to tamp down on his urge to bombard the omega with attention that is most likely unwanted.

Going into work is a blessing and a curse. It’s a welcome distraction, and they’re still plenty busy working the murder cases of the two omegas and assisting the Human Trafficking department with their end of the work. It keeps him occupied, but it’s also a constant reminder of  _ Malcolm _ . He looks over the pictures of the dead omegas and shudders because  _ his _ omega could easily have been one of them. He sees the mug shot of the suspect he’d questioned at the auction and a sudden rage boils up inside him as he remembers the man’s taunts.

His team understands. They don’t comment on his mood swings, and he trusts them to call him out if he lets his emotions get too out of hand. JT knows what it’s like to be a bonded alpha and he gives Gil both his space and several commiserating looks throughout the day. Dani is a beta, and while she doesn't have the same chemical urges as the two alphas, she’s naturally caring and fiercely loyal and protective of those she considers to be her family. After spending the afternoon interviewing Malcolm, she’s already accepted him into their little circle, whether he knew it or not.

His team understands, but his other colleagues are not as caring or professional. It had been clear from the first day that he’d bonded, there was no hiding the change in his scent. He hadn’t divulged any of the details, and he knows that JT and Dani will keep their knowledge to themselves as well. The lack of concrete information about his new omega leaves the door wide open for speculation, and most of the alpha cops his age have no shame and no filter. They’re hardened by experience, grizzled, and feel entitled to their opinions, which are about 50 years out of date. 

_ “What the hell, Arroyo? You’re all shacked up again and didn’t tell anyone?” _

_ “Gil! You finally find a sweet little thing to keep you warm at night?” _

_ “We gonna get pictures or what?” _

_ “Looks like that undercover mission went better than expected, eh, Arroyo?” _

_ That _ had hit a little too close to home, and Gil had finally snarled back a response that had managed to shut them up, for the time being.

Two days later, when the scent wasn’t as strong and his discomfort was harder to hide, the questions started up again.

_ “What the hell, Arroyo? You’ve got a brand new omega at home but you’re not getting yours?” _

_ “What happened? Took one look at your face the morning after and never came back?” _

He ignores them, brushes the questions off and refuses to answer. They’d never understand, and he won’t bring Malcolm into it or disparage the omega for taking whatever time he needs. To them, saying an omega has a choice would be laughable, and they’d only push harder and demand to know why Gil was denying himself what they clearly think he’s owed.

It’s disgusting, their attitudes are relics of an age not long gone that hangs on in the outdated laws and practices concerning alpha and omega relations. 

Malcolm doesn’t owe him anything. Gil only hopes he can show the young omega that he’s worthy of being his alpha, despite their less than ideal bonding.

Along with his morning texts, Gil starts to look for other ways to court his omega from a distance. He doubts that Malcolm  _ needs  _ anything, with Jessica Whitly as his mother, and he’s never courted a male omega before. Jackie had loved flowers, but Gil has no idea if Malcolm would appreciate such a gesture. Though  _ Jessica  _ might. He orders a bouquet from a local florist, selecting flowers that supposedly represent appreciation and thankfulness, but nothing romantic. He has them sent to the Whitly residence with a note that reads simply,  _ “Thank you for giving me a chance.” _

It takes another day or two for him to find his first gift for Malcolm. He’s walking to lunch when he passes a Chocolatier, a shop he’s passed hundreds of times but never given a second glance. Something in the display window catches his eye, though, and he knows immediately that Malcolm will love it.

It’s a bouquet of chocolate roses with chocolate and white chocolate covered strawberries mixed in. One of the few things he remembers about Malcolm’s tastes from when he was a child was his insatiable sweet tooth. He hopes he still enjoys sweets as much now as he had then. He orders a bouquet and picks it up as he’s leaving the precinct for the evening—on time, for once—and decides to deliver it himself.

His heart is pounding in his chest as he pulls up to the Whitly residence, feeling more like a nervous teenager than an experienced alpha. He rings the bell and waits, forcing himself not to fidget and to remain calm as the door swings open.

“Can I help you?” asks the maid who answers the door.

“Yes. I, uh, I have a delivery for Malcolm. Could you make sure he gets these?” Gil replies, holding the bouquet out and carefully passing it over to the young woman.

“Would you like me to get him? You could deliver them yourself,” she suggests, looking him over with a sly smile. 

Gil blushes,  _ like a school boy _ , and shakes his head. “No, I think it would be better if you just passed them along for me, but thank you.”

“Would you like me to give him a message?” she presses.

“Uh. Just, tell him that Gil brought them. That I’m… uh. That they’re from me. That’s all,” he stammers.

She gives a sweet smile and a nod, and he turns tail and walks quickly back to his car. As he turns he hears Jessica asking who’s at the door, spurring him on to leave even faster.

Later that night he gets a text from Malcolm, and his heart clenches in his chest when he sees that it’s an image. He opens the message with shaking hands with no idea of what to expect.

It’s a chocolate covered strawberry with one, clear bite taken out of it. There’s no text, just the picture. It shouldn’t  _ mean _ anything, and yet he’s positive that somehow Malcolm knew exactly the effect it would have on his alpha. 

That one simple picture brings a dozen more images flooding into Gil’s mind. He pictures Malcolm, lips wrapped around the fruit, teeth nipping at it, juice spreading across his tongue and lips, and thinks about what it would taste like to kiss him, chasing the flavor of chocolate and strawberry with his tongue...

His omega is a tease, and he’s going to be the death of him.

Gil decides that the picture is permission to continue, and over the course of the next week he chooses two more similar gifts—sweets and treats from his favorite places around the city. He hand delivers both of them, leaving them with the same maid who’d taken the first bouquet. She mocks him, silently, clearly amused by his antics, but he doesn’t budge on his insistence that she deliver the gifts for him. If Malcolm wanted to see him, he could come to the door. Gil isn’t going to force a reunion sooner than the omega is comfortable with.

Malcolm doesn’t send him any more pictures, but when he arrives at his office the morning after delivering the third gift, there’s a small envelope on his desk, his name handwritten neatly on the front. Inside is a simple thank you card, and the formality of it makes him chuckle. There’s a single line printed inside,  _ Thank You for the Thoughtful Gift _ , and a signature. But, it smells like Malcolm. He recognizes his omega’s scent immediately, and it’s strong enough that he knows Malcolm left it there intentionally. It could have been as simple a gesture as rubbing his wrist against the fancy cardstock before putting it in the envelope, but he’d done it on purpose. He wanted Gil to be reminded of his scent.

His brain short-circuits for several long minutes, and he finds himself grateful that he’d come in early enough that no one was around to come knocking at his door, demanding his attention. He indulges himself, bringing the note up and inhaling deeply, letting his eyes fall closed as he lets the scent invoke memories of Malcolm; his smile—what little he’d seen of it—his warmth, his eagerness. He tries to keep the memories work appropriate. The last thing he needs is to be obviously aroused when the rest of his team does show up. It’s hard, when the only time he’d spent with Malcolm had been during his forced heat. He wishes he had more memories of better times spent together. 

It’s been just over a week since they’d bonded, since he’s seen his omega, since he’s touched him. He’s grown accustomed to the ache. It hasn’t lessened, but he’s gotten used to it. His control is growing weaker by the day, and each new encouragement from Malcolm makes it harder not to be even more forward with his advances. 

The card gives him an idea.

They’ve nearly wrapped up the case, and Dani had mentioned that she might go see Malcolm and update him on the progress being made. He knows she plans on going that afternoon, and begins to prepare another small token for her to deliver to Malcolm when she sees him.

***

Malcolm is just sitting down to breakfast when his phone pings to alert have of an incoming text, around the same time it does every morning. But this morning, he’d forgotten to mute his phone before joining his mother in the dining room. 

He ignores it, and hopes that she does, too, but he isn’t quite so lucky.

“Aren’t you going to check that, dear?” Jessica asks.

“It can wait until after breakfast,” he assures her with a smile. It’s not like he plans on replying, anyways.

“Please, don’t wait on my account,” Jessica urges and Malcolm sighs quietly, giving in to the inevitable and reaching for his phone.

It’s from Gil, of course. The same as every other day this week.  _ Good Morning _ . Some mornings, the greeting makes him smile—secretly, of course. Other mornings, it makes him want to throw his phone across the room. Two little words, full of meaning he hasn’t quite deciphered yet.

He glances at the message, mutes his phone, then drops it back onto the table.

“Who was it? You’re not going to reply?” Jessica asks as she sips at her coffee.

“Not right now. It’s nobody, not important.” Malcolm shoves a piece of toast in his mouth to avoid having to answer any more questions. It seems to do the trick, momentarily. 

“Was it your sister?” Jessica asks several minutes later.

Malcolm nearly throws his hands into the air in exasperation, stopping himself at the last moment and shooting her a confounded look. “Mother, it’s not important. Please just let it go.”

She sighs in obvious disappointment, but nods, dropping it.

It’s his own fault for texting the alpha in the first place. He’d started it. Then, he’d continued it when he’d sent him the picture of the partially eaten strawberry.

That had been… he still doesn’t know what had possessed him to take the picture, much less send it. It was innocuous enough, in and of itself. Gil could have seen it simply as a sign of his appreciation of the gift. But, somehow, he didn’t think so. That’s certainly not how he’d meant it. As soon as he’d sent it he’d started kicking himself and wondering  _ what in the hell  _ he’d been thinking.

He’d learned…  _ so _ many things… during his time with the organization. How to keep an alpha’s interest, or pique it. He'd been taught the power of suggestion. And sexting, of all things. Anything and everything their handlers deemed necessary to turn him into an irresistible omega, ready and willing to do anything his alpha could possibly want or imagine.

He’d sent the picture without thinking, years of training overriding his staunch refusal to entertain the alpha’s advances. Years of training, and the insistent longing he felt for the other man. He couldn’t honestly say that there wasn’t a part of him that had wanted to please the alpha, training be damned. ‘Thank you’ had seemed too simple. So he’d sent the picture, instead.

He’d expected a reply; a come on, some sort of appreciative remark, encouragement and a request for more. He hadn’t expected silence. Somehow, that silence had changed things. It had finally set in that Gil truly wasn’t looking for anything from him, that he didn’t have any expectations. He  _ wants  _ Malcolm, that much is still clear. But finally, Malcolm believes that he only wants Malcolm if it’s on Malcolm’s terms, in his own time.

The gifts kept coming, and each time Malcolm had heard the engine of the obnoxiously loud car Gil drives roll up outside the house, he would creep down to the bottom of the stairs and listen as the alpha delivered his gift, catching his scent on the breeze that came in and feeling the surge of longing that would well up within him when he did. It gave him the idea for his next message to the alpha, the note that he’d had delivered that morning.

Despite everything, he still can’t bring himself to reply to Gil’s daily morning greetings. It feels like a final surrender, one he’s not quite ready to make.

His phone screen lights up with an incoming call, and even though it’s from an unknown number he jumps at the excuse to leave the table, stepping into the other room before answering.

“This is Bright.”

“Hello, Malcolm, it’s Dani. Detective Powell. How are you?” 

He smiles at the familiar voice. Despite how pushy she’d been about his relationship with her boss, Malcolm had liked the young beta detective. 

“I’m fine, Detective. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, things are going really well, actually. That’s why I’m calling. We’ve made a lot of headway on the case, and I was wondering if I could come over this afternoon to give you an update and have you sign an official witness statement?”

“Sure, yeah, that’s fine. What time… three? I’ll see you then.”

He hangs up and turns back towards the dining room, only to find his mother standing just a few feet away. Her unexpected presence startles him enough that he nearly drops his phone.

“Mother! What are you doing?”

“Who was that? Are you meeting someone?” she presses, ignoring his question.

Malcolm sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“Mother, it was Detective Powell. She asked if I was available for a follow up meeting. That’s all.”

“Oh. Well. That's… fine, then. Three, you said?” 

“ _ Mother _ ,” Malcolm grits out in exasperation.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s none of my business, you’re right,” she admits.

Malcolm shakes his head, bemused as always with Jessica’s antics. He knows she means well, and that makes it a little more bearable.

Dani arrives promptly, and this time Malcolm is nowhere near as nervous and he had been for her first visit. They exchange brief pleasantries before Dani jumps right into the case, catching him up on the progress they’d made and assuring him that, since they don’t know who exactly did the drugging, it’s unlikely that he’ll be called in to testify. He signs the formal witness statement gladly, relieved to hear that he won’t have to relive that day again in front of a courtroom full of people. 

It’s a short visit, but much more pleasant than her first. As Dani stands to leave she pulls an envelope from one of the files she’d brought in and hands it over to him.

“Gil asked me to give you this. He said to tell you that no reply was necessary until you’re ready. But I’m sure you already knew that.”

He takes it from her and can’t help the small smile that creeps across his face when he sees the little candy taped to the front. He looks up to find her watching him, and though she isn’t smiling her eyes are alight with mirth, and it’s clear she’s pleased with his reaction.

“Don’t forget what we talked about last time, Malcolm. Some things are better to hash out ahead of time,” she calls out as she heads towards the front door.

Malcolm blushes, remembering clearly her advice in regards to his next heat, and while he knows that no one else in the house is aware of that little discussion, and therefore no one else knows what she’s referring to, the comment still leaves him flushed with embarrassment. 

She’s teasing him, he realizes. Making fun of this slow, awkward dance he and Gil have been doing around each other. He finds himself shaking his head in amusement as a pleasant warmth spreads throughout his chest. Aside from Ainsley, no one’s ever  _ teased _ him before. Not like this, not like a friend. 

Since his mother doesn’t appear to be waiting in the wings to ask him how his meeting with Dani went, he decides to take a chance and open the note then and there. First, he frees the candy from its wrapper and pops it into his mouth. 

The taste brings back a flood of memories, and the sudden onslaught makes him so dizzy it nearly sends him to the ground. He reaches out to catch himself on the wall as he’s bombarded with images that flash through his mind like a home movie. He sees Gil—younger, less gray, in a uniform—standing in their foyer, arresting his father. He remembers feeling small and frightened and overwhelmed as other officers swarmed through the house and tried to talk to him, but it was all too much until Gil had returned and knelt down in front of him, then cupped his face and handed him a candy. He remembers a courtroom filled with stern-faced people, and a tension so thick he could taste it. But then Gil was there, comforting and encouraging him and handing him a candy once more. 

Malcolm gasps, coming back to himself, and is surprised to find his cheeks are damp with tears. He’s blocked out so much of his childhood, there are so many things he can’t remember, and it isn’t surprising that Gil’s role in his father's arrest is one of those things. But now, he remembers. He remembers how comforting Gil’s alpha presence had been, had steadfast his support of Malcolm was, how his scent—god, how had he forgotten his  _ scent _ ?—had calmed him.

His heart is pounding in his chest, hand shaking as it does when he’s feeling frightened or vulnerable, a sign of discomfort his handlers had tried valiantly to destroy through threats and punishments, but had never quite succeeded. He can’t think straight, can’t seem to reconcile this new  _ old _ information with everything he feels about the alpha now. It takes him a long moment to remember the envelope. Opening it is harder than it should be as his hand continues to shake, but he manages to pull out the card inside without damaging anything important.

It’s a simple card, nearly a match to the note he’d sent the alpha just that morning, except it’s blank on the front, and the message inside is hand written rather than typed.

It’s a dinner invitation, for a time and place of Malcolm’s choosing, with a postscript ensuring him there are no strings attached, and that he doesn’t have to respond until he’s sure he’s ready.

It smells like Gil. The scent fills the air and serves to heighten not only the childhood memories still playing out in his head, but also more recent ones, memories of their bonding, of the way Gil had cared for him between and after. It’s the same comforting, calming scent he remembers from his childhood combined with something else, a hint of spice, something intriguing and alluring and very nearly arousing. He resists the urge to shove his nose into the crease of the note and inhale as much of Gil’s scent as he possibly can. Any minute now his mother will show up, and he doesn’t want to have to explain  _ that _ .

He tucks the card carefully back into the envelope, and then shoves it in his pocket as his mother sweeps into the room and whisks him away to help her go through grant applications. It distracts him thoroughly enough that he doesn’t even have time to think about the invitation, or what his response will be, until later that evening.

Malcolm isn’t exactly familiar with the New York restaurant scene anymore, so he texts Ainsley to ask for a recommendation—nice, but not too upscale. Normal date night fare. Of course, she bombards him with questions that he refuses to answer. Finally she gives up and sends him a list of several restaurants with links to their websites and menus. He thanks her and promises to answer her questions later. He’s not quite ready to open that can of worms with her. He’s not even sure he knows the answer to most of her questions yet, anyways. He’s still figuring out his own feelings.

He looks through the list of restaurants, researching each one carefully. He has no idea what Gil’s taste in food is like, and finally settles for a standard fare, all-American type place. Byt the time he’s made his decision, it’s late and he guesses that Gil is probably asleep already. He sends the alpha a text anyways, knowing if he waits until morning he’s likely to change his mind.

The text is simple. A restaurant name, a date—Friday night, three days away—and time, followed by  _ I’ll see you there _ .

***

Friday night arrives faster than Malcolm could have anticipated. He’d had to tell his mother about the date when he asked to use the car, and her response had been about what he’d expected. She’d been thrilled, initially, that he’d agreed to see Gil again. She’d also been appalled at his restaurant choice, but he’d refused to change it. He didn’t know much about Gil, but he was almost positive that he didn’t make a habit of dining at Michelin Star restaurants, and Malcolm didn’t want to drag him out of his comfort zone now. He’s positive the evening is going to be awkward enough as it is. Even still, his mother insists he wear a suit. She’d wanted to get one custom made, but thankfully there wasn’t time for that. Off the rack and tailored had to suffice. He left the house in a tie, but took it off in the car and undid the top button of his shirt as well.

He’ll never admit it to his mother, but he's glad he's wearing the suit. He doesn't feel like an omega, he just feels like himself. It’s flattering, but not flashy. He looks good, but he doesn’t feel like he’s on display. He arrives at the restaurant early and asks to be seated. He’s determined to have the upper hand from the get go and refuses to let the dinner resemble a date too closely. In his mind, it’s a business meeting, a meal between acquaintances to discuss the future of their relationship.

Malcolm notices Gil the moment the alpha walks into the restaurant. As soon as he sees him, the ever-present ache that’s set up a permanent residence in the center of his chest dissipates, and he can breathe easier than he’s been able to in weeks. 

He’s not in a designer suit, but Malcolm grudgingly admits to himself that Gil looks good. He’s wearing dark pants and a sport coat over a soft looking sweater. Malcolm’s heart flutters in his chest as the alpha starts to walk his way, but he pushes the feeling down, refusing to let nerves get the better of him. Gil smiles when he sees him, and though it’s tentative, creeping slowly across his face, it’s so full of pure affection that the fluttering in Malcolm’s heart returns full force. 

He returns the smile, but his is small, restrained. He doesn’t stand when Gil reaches the table.

“Hello, Malcolm,” Gil greets him with a nod.

“Gil,” he replies simply, nodding back. 

He’s screaming internally, his senses overwhelmed with the alpha’s smell and the gentle sound of his voice and how handsome he looks in the soft light shining down on their table. Malcolm doesn’t  _ want  _ to be rude, but he’s afraid that if he’s anything other than detached or aloof he’ll lose all control and throw himself at the alpha—figuratively and literally. 

Gil’s smile falters ever so slightly, but he recovers quickly. He takes his seat, and if he’s nervous, he doesn’t show it.

“It’s good to see you again. How are you?” the alpha asks.

“I’m good. Really, things have been good. I’m settling in, finding my feet,” Malcolm answers honestly. “How’s work?”

Their waitress comes before Gil can answer and they both place drink orders, then spend several minutes looking over the menu in silence. The waitress returns with their drinks and takes their order, and finally Gil turns his attention back to Malcolm.

“Work is going well. Slow days are good days at the precinct, and we’ve had a few of those recently,” Gil tells him, picking up the conversation where it had left off. “How’s Jessica? Have you been able to see your sister much?”

“Mother is her usual self. She’s roped me into helping her with one of her charities. You should have seen her face when I told her where I was meeting you, tonight,” Malcolm replies, and he doesn’t try to stop the smile that spreads over his face. It’s odd, that this man who is still such a stranger to him is already acquainted with his family, and yet it feels so natural to share this little joke with him at his mother’s expense.

Gil’s face lights up, eyes crinkling in mirth. “I can only imagine,” he laughs.

“She actually told me she was glad I changed my name so that I wouldn’t be making the reservation under Whitly,” Malcolm admits, chuckling softly.

An awkward silence falls at the mention of Malcolm’s changed name and Malcolm kicks himself for bringing it, and all the memories associated with it, up. Gil gives him a look that’s so full of regret that Malcolm’s resolve to keep things  _ professional _ nearly crumbles. But then the alpha smiles once more, pressing on.

“And your sister? Is she still in school?”

“Uh, yeah. She’s studying to be a journalist. Why, I have no idea.”

“I’ll be sure to keep a lookout for her on the evening news.”

Their food arrives and they continue their small talk as they eat. 

“Do you have any family?” Malcolm asks as he cuts into his ravioli, peeking up at the alpha to catch his reaction to the question before dropping his eyes quickly back to his plate, strangely nervous now that he’s the one asking the personal questions.

Of course, he asks just as Gil takes his first bite, and while he seems pleasantly surprised that Malcolm had asked, it takes several moments of chewing before he can answer.

“Not in the city. Not anymore, at least. My mother and sister live upstate, but my...” His smile fades, eyes dropping to his plate and he pauses, considering his next words carefully. 

Malcolm watches Gil patiently, interest piqued, head tilted in silent curiosity as he waits for the alpha to continue.

“My late wife had family in the city, but we don’t keep in touch anymore,” Gil says finally, raising his eyes to meet Malcolm’s shocked gaze.

“Wife? You were…? I mean, I’m sorry for your loss. How long—?”

“She passed three years ago. Cancer. It was quick.”

“What was her name?”

“Jackie,” Gil answers and the way he says her name is heartbreakingly tender.

A thought occurs to Malcolm and his next question escapes his lips before his mind has the chance to think about the words. 

“Do you have any children?” He hadn’t even considered that Gil had been bonded before him, that he might have children. Hell he’s old enough that he could have children Malcolm’s age.

“No children. We tried, but it never worked out,” Gil answers, smiling sadly. 

Even in the crowded restaurant where the air is saturated with aroma from food and the scents of dozens of diners, Malcolm can smell the change in the alpha’s scent. The usual hints of old leather and smoke shift into something heavier, almost damp, and so thick he can almost taste the alpha’s grief from across the table. It’s there and gone again as Gil takes a deep breath, shaking off the melancholy that had come over him as he’d spoken of his wife.

“I’m sorry, I’m not being a very good dinner partner,” he huffs, looking up to offer Malcolm a watery smile. 

Malcolm shakes his head and nearly reaches out to hold the alpha’s hand but he can’t quite bring himself to do it. “It’s fine. Thank you for telling me.”

There’s a lull in the conversation then, both men focusing on their food, lost to their own thoughts, but as they near the end of their meal, Gil begins talking about work once more and the conversation resumes.

Malcolm finds himself relaxing into the normalcy of it all. He’d been expecting something different. He’d expected tension, awkward silences, and, if he’s honest, thinly veiled innuendos on Gil’s part.

Everything he’d ever been taught about alphas, especially bonded alphas, had left him with the impression that they were only interested in one thing from omegas. He’d been led to believe that his sole job as an omega would be to meet his alpha’s needs, whatever those may be, and that his alpha would have no interest in him apart from that.

But Gil wasn’t like that at all. Gil was attentive and asked about his family and hadn’t made any advances or even reached out to touch him. He’d been a perfect gentleman throughout the evening, genuinely interested in everything that Malcolm had to say. His easy smiles and soft laugh and the way he looked at Malcolm like he was the most important person in the world all combined to leave Malcolm breathless and flushed and completely off guard. From the moment he’d woken up in bed after his heat, bonded with an alpha he’d never met, he’d been prepared for a fight, not a courtship. 

The only hint Gil gives of wanting  _ more  _ is the way his gaze lingers on Malcolm, particularly on his neck, where he knows his bond mark peeks out ever so slightly from beneath his collar. The mark is faded and barely visible now, easy to miss if you aren’t looking for it, and he’s sure that the alpha’s natural possessive urges must be screaming at him to mark his omega once more. And yet, he does nothing, and his self-control is equal parts endearing and frustrating. 

That is a realization that Malcolm isn’t quite sure what to do with, and he pushes it aside for later consideration, though not fast enough. He can feel a flush creeping over his cheeks at the thought of what possessive Gil might do to him, and of course Gil notices and gives Malcolm a bemused look.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, his gaze dropping to Malcolm’s neck once more and Malcolm is sure he does it on purpose this time.

“Nothing,” he chokes out, shaking his head firmly and taking a too fast sip of water to moisten his suddenly dry mouth. He nearly chokes again, blushing even further as the water goes down the wrong pipe.

“You alright, Malcolm?” Gil asks, somewhere between amused and actually concerned. He starts to stand, reaching out to pat Malcolm on the back but Malcolm waves him off, smiling despite the way his eyes are watering.

“I’m fine. Just swallowed wrong. It’s fine,” he manages to gasp out. Embarrassing as it is, the episode seems to distract Gil from his original line of questioning, for which Malcolm is more than grateful.

They stay for dessert and a final drink and talk until it becomes clear that their waitress is ready for them to leave. Malcolm is surprised to find that he doesn’t want to go. He’s enjoyed the night thoroughly and his traitorous omega mind begins to provide him with a long and detailed list of further activities they could pursue. He texts his mother’s driver before he can make any decisions he might regret later. Or, might not regret. He’s not sure which would be worse.

“Can I give you a ride home?” Gil offers once they’re outside. 

Malcolm considers it for a moment, but the car is already there, and he’s afraid that if he gets into Gil’s car, he won’t want to go home.

“My ride is already here, actually. I’m sorry,” he replies honestly.

Gil sighs in clear disappointment, but accepts the answer without argument.

“Thank you, Malcolm. For agreeing to have dinner with me, and for a wonderful evening.” He steps in close and takes one of Malcolm’s hands in his, lifting the other slowly towards Malcolm’s face. “May I?” he whispers, hand hovering just above his skin, close enough that Malcolm is sure he can feel the warmth of it on his cheek.

He doesn’t trust himself to speak, but he nods, and turns his head into the touch, sighing softly at the contact. Gil surges forward and presses his lips to Malcolm’s in a slow, gentle kiss.

When he pulls away they’re both breathless, and Malcolm is certain he’s blushing once more, his heart pounding wildly in his ears after just one kiss. 

“Um. I should. The car,” Malcolm stutters.

“Yeah. Time to go,” Gil agrees, smiling tenderly down at Malcolm, though he doesn't let go of Malcolm's hand for another long moment, and he slides the hand that had been cupping his cheek down along his neck to rest on his shoulder, rubbing his thumb over the bond mark there, his eyes darkening with the possessiveness Malcolm had been expecting to see from him all evening, his scent shifting into something sharper, spicy, and nearly irresistible.

Malcolm shudders and nearly leans in for another kiss, but the loud, obnoxious blare of a car horn rings out, startling them both. Malcolm steps away, glancing back at the road to see that someone has pulled up behind his waiting car and clearly wants them to move along.

“I gotta go. Goodnight,” he calls out as he rushes to the car and practically throws himself inside.

He half expects his mother to be waiting up for him when he returns, but the house is blessedly silent and still when he walks inside. He suspects her driver was under orders to keep her updated on his whereabouts throughout the evening. Just another reason why declining Gil’s offer of a ride home was a good idea.

His mind and heart are both racing even after he slides into bed. The kiss, the way his alpha had touched him; gentle but sure, a reminder of who he belongs to no matter how faded the mark on his neck has become.

He has every intention of going straight to bed, but his lips are still tingling from their simple kiss, and he swears he can still feel Gil’s touch on his neck and the thrum of excitement that’s been simmering in his blood most of the evening is beginning to boil over into something more, something he can’t ignore quite so easily. 

He  _ wants _ . 

He wants Gil. 

He’d realized it during dinner when he’d caught Gil staring at the bond mark on his neck, and the feeling had only intensified when they’d kissed. He’d run away from it then to avoid the exact problem he faces now.

He’s hard. From the minute he’d shut his bedroom door behind him, closing himself into the safety of his own room, his mind had dropped it’s defenses and treated him to a barrage of increasingly enticing suggestions of what  _ could have _ happened if he’d gone home with Gil. He’d tried to ignore it, hoping that if he refused to entertain the thoughts then his half hard cock would give up and settle down. It hadn’t. The promise of some long overdue attention was clearly too much to be ignored or given up on, and now he’s  _ aching _ .

He sighs dramatically, kicking his covers down off his body in a huff, acting as if what’s about to happen is something that can’t be avoided rather than something he’s been wanting all night long.

He hasn’t done this in a while. His body, mind, and heart haven’t been on the same page since the heat, and so even when he wakes up hard it fades quickly when he can’t quite find the motivation to do anything about it. So, while he wants this to last, he knows it will likely be over embarrassingly soon.

He strips off his boxers and tosses them to the side. His eyes drift closed, and he thinks of Gil. He pictures him the way he’d looked during dinner; fully clothed, with that possessive gleam in his eye that had set Malcolm off in the first place. He lifts one hand to his chest, toying lightly with a nipple, reveling in the sparks of pleasure that shoot straight to his groin with each touch. He trails the tips of the fingers of his other hand down the center of his chest, skipping over his cock where it rests against his belly and reaching down to cup his balls, rolling them in his palm, squeezing and tugging at his sack before finally moving up to stroke along his shaft with the same feather-light brush of his fingers.

He gasps at the sensation, his cock hyper-sensitive after so long without so much as a touch. Despite his best intentions he knows that once he starts touching himself in earnest, he isn’t going to last long. He lets his mind wander, imagining that Gil was there with him, laying next to him on the bed, that it’s his fingers circling his cock, stroking him as he murmurs encouragements into his ear, teasing him and driving him mad with the need to come.

He strokes himself in quick, steady pulls and even though it’s too dry and the drag of skin on skin burns, the pressure is just right and he doesn’t stop, relishing the pain along with the pleasure. He imagines how Gil would feel pressed up against him, pictures his lips moving softly against his ear as he whispers  _ you’re mine _ and  _ you’re doing so well for me _ . 

Malcolm moans wantonly at the thought, head pressed back into his pillow, his breath coming quick and shallow as the pleasure builds in his belly and each exhale turns into a needy whine. He pinches his nipple, tugging at it roughly, and it hurts just enough to feel oh so good and he moans again, stroking himself faster, remembering the feel of Gil’s thumb felt against his neck and imagining how his lips would feel, his tongue and his teeth working at the skin as he sucks a fresh bond mark into his neck...

His orgasm catches him by surprise, the thought of Gil marking him once more sending him over the edge so suddenly that his leaves him breathless, his mouth open in a silent cry as he spills onto his belly, rope after rope of come covering his chest and stomach as he continues to work himself until he’s completely spent, gasping and boneless. 

He reaches out blindly for his boxers and wipes himself down as best he can before tossing them away. He’s exhausted, drained, and yet he feels somehow less satisfied than he had before he’d brought himself off.

The ache in his chest is back, stronger than ever, and he’s never felt so  _ bereft _ , like he’s missing the most important part of himself, and he realizes that he can’t deny himself much longer.

Besides, his heat is due to start in less than a week, and if he feels achy and empty now, he knows it’s nothing compared to what he’ll experience if he tries to face his heat without his alpha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized as I was writing that last bit that this was a first for me! This chapter officially popped my masturbation writing cherry. Hopefully it wasn't terrible...


	9. Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it took a little longer to get this next part written, but! I have the next chapter nearly completed already as well, because I ended up writing more than enough for two chapters somehow without even realizing it. So the next update won't take nearly as long, and then, we'll nearly be at the end! I am a horrible judge of how long things will end up being, but I would say this story probably will end up around 15 chapters. Give or take. 
> 
> Enjoy! Things are really starting to heat up for our boys...

Days go by with much of the same. Gil sends gifts, and Malcolm starts to do the same; small things that make him think of the alpha, nothing extravagant or particularly meaningful. Just thoughtful. They text, they see each other more.

"How was your evening, dear?" Jessica asks as soon as Malcolm creeps into the dining room to join her for breakfast. 

"It was splendid. We had a lovely time," he replies airily, quickly pouring himself a cup of coffee to hide his blush at the memories of the previous evening’s activities.

He'd gone on his fourth date, in less than two weeks, with Gil the night before. It had been a beautiful evening, and they'd ended up at a concert in the park. Things had  _ progressed _ from there. He's glad his mother is a beta and likely can't smell the way he reeks of Gil this morning. 

A heavy makeout session in a secluded, heavily wooded area of the park had devolved into some heavy petting and ended with Gil wrapping his large, calloused hand around both of their cocks and bringing them off together.

When Malcolm finally glances up at Jessica over his mug, he finds her smirking knowingly at the mark on his neck, and his blush deepens.

Gil hadn't renewed his claim on Malcolm fully with a fresh bite, but he had sucked and worried at the spot with his teeth long enough to leave little doubt as to its existence. No longer faded and dull, Gil’s bond mark now stands out starkly against Malcolm's pale skin.

They eat in silence for several long moments before Jessica sets down her fork and looks over at Malcolm with a considering look.

"Malcolm, if things are going well, then why are you making him wait?" Jessica asks, her tone soft and solemn. "It's clear he adores you, and you must be enjoying your time with him as well. And, I may be a beta, but I know the signs of an approaching heat when I see them, dear."

Malcolm nearly chokes on food in his mouth, pushing away his plate as he recovers and swallows, appetite officially gone. Jessica frowns at the amount of food left, but doesn’t comment. He gathers himself, choosing his words carefully. He’s given his future with Gil a lot of thought over the past couple of weeks, and especially in the past few days as his heat was rapidly approaching. He knows he has to make a decision, and soon.  _ Today _ , his mind oh so helpfully supplies.  _ Tomorrow at the latest _ . He pushes the reminder aside.

The more time he’s spent with the alpha, the more he’s come to respect him, like him even. Maybe even more than like. Gil has worn him down with his patience and his persistence, and Malcolm has come to see just how caring the man is, how selfless and considerate. He’s brave, too. He’d let slip some details of cases he’d worked in the past and Malcolm’s respect for the man had grown with each new bit of information he’d learned about him. But, he still has reservations. Not about Gil, precisely, but about what kind of life they would have together, what kind of life Malcolm would have if they lived together as a bonded pair.

“I don’t want to just be some omega  _ breeder _ ,” Malcolm tells his mother, deciding to hold nothing back. “I want to do  _ something  _ with my life. And if I go to Gil now… I don’t know what that would be. I don’t want to just warm his bed and have his babies. But I have… I don’t know how to do anything else.” His voice catches as he speaks, emotions welling inside of him unbidden. He’s tried to hide his frustration and disappointment about the current trajectory of his life as best he can. He doesn’t blame his mother, even if it was her choices that ultimately set him on this path, and he doesn’t want her to blame herself, either. But, he has to be honest about his reservations.

“Oh Malcolm, that’s not true,” she replies, reaching across the table to take his hand in hers. “You’re capable of so much more than you realize.”

He scoffs. “Like what? I have no education, no experience. All I know is how to give people what they want.” It comes out far more bitter than he intends, and he feels bad, for a moment, until his mother’s reply startles him out of it.

“You have no idea what a useful skill that is,” she tells him, squeezing his hand. “In fact, I’ve been thinking. What if I were to hire you?”

“I’m not looking for pity, mother,” Malcolm says, scowling.

“It is not pity! The work you’ve been doing for my non-profits has already begun to show returns, and with your charm and people skills, you could rob all those old-money families blind with just a smile,” she insists.

Malcolm purses his lips, unconvinced.

“My love, I promise you. I’ve been thinking of hiring someone for the position anyways. It’s become a full time job, now that I’ve increased my involvement and made more of it public. You know our family, my values, the types of places I want my money going. I  _ trust  _ you. I’d much rather hire you than some joe schmo off the street.”

It’s clear Jessica has given this job offer serious thought, and that helps to mollify Malcolm. If he’s honest with himself, he’s enjoyed the work he’s done for her so far. He does like working with people, getting to know them, finding out what makes them tick, and what will convince them to part with their hard earned money in the name of charity. 

“I don’t really know how to run an organization, though,” he insists. 

“That’s what assistants are for, dear. All you need to do is bring in the money, my business managers can handle the rest. I’ll find you a business intern if it makes you feel better,” Jessica assures him. 

Malcolm sighs. Jessica has thought this through, and he suspects she won’t take no for an answer.

“Okay,” Malcolm concedes, a smile beginning to creep across his face. “Alright, fine. I’d like to see a contract, discuss benefits.”

Jessica laughs, and that alone is worth it to Malcolm.

“So, about your alpha,” Jessica begins.

Malcolm sighs loudly, rolling his eyes. “Mother. I promise, I’ve been giving it serious consideration. I need to talk to Gil about this new development, and make sure we’re on the same page before we take things any further. But I promise you, I will. Tonight, even, if he’s free.”

She pouts, but nods. “He’s a good man, Malcolm. I’m sure he’ll be happy to let you do whatever you choose.”

“I know, I know that now, I do. I just want to make sure we’re both on the same page. That’s all.” All he has to do is actually ask to  _ talk _ to the alpha. It shouldn’t be a big deal, not anymore. But he’s inexplicably nervous, for reasons even he doesn’t understand. It has to happen, though, and soon. Gil is too much of a gentleman to push him about taking things further, so he has to bring it up, and if they’re going to talk about it before his heat, it has to be soon. Within the next day or two.

As soon as he leaves the table he pulls out his phone and texts Gil. They’ve been texting more and more recently, casual conversations throughout the day. He likes it, how it allows them to get to know silly little things about each other's lives.

He decides against asking ‘ _ can we talk _ ,’ thinking it sounds a little too ominous. Instead he asks;

_ Are you free tonight? _ _   
  
_

_ Of course, kid. What’s up?  _ Gil replies almost immediately.   
  


_ Can I come over? I’d like to see you. _ No, that’s not quite right. He backspaces.  _ I’ll bring dinner. _ _   
  
_

_ That would be great. I should be home by 7:00,  _ Gil agrees.   
  


_ Great, see you then. _ __   
  


Malcolm shoves his phone back in his pocket, hand shaking. He’s committed, now. There’s no getting out of it. After a deep, calming breath, he goes to find his mother and work out the details of her job offer.

***

The day goes by too quickly. Malcolm is pleased to find that he’s genuinely interested in the position Jessica has in mind for him. It’s meaningful work, and she hadn’t been lying when she’d said it would be a full time job. He’s eager to start, and thrilled with how quickly what had seemed like a major roadblock in his life had been resolved. For the first time in a long time, he’s actually excited when he thinks about his future.

Before he knows it, it’s nearly 6 o’clock, and he finds himself scrambling to get ready to go to Gil’s, ordering food to be picked up on the way. He showers quickly—he’s oddly warm for being in an office all day, and had even started sweating. He writes it off as a mix of nerves and excitement as he rinses off quickly and changes into something casual, but flattering; designer jeans that are just this side of tight, and a slate gray button down he’s been informed makes the blue of his eyes pop.

“Going to see Gil?” Jessica asks as he heads towards the door.

“Yes, I’ve got some good news to share with him, after all!” Malcolm exclaims. He’s practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, nervous energy making him jittery and overly excited.

Jessica raises an eyebrow in surprise as she watches him fidget, but she’s smiling. “Well, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see you, and to hear your news. Have a good evening, dear.” She gives him a quick peck on his cheek, frowning as she pulls away. “Malcolm, are you feeling alright? Are you sure you should go, now?”

“Yeah, I feel great! Why?”

“You’re warm, that’s all,” Jessica replies with a resigned sigh. “Just, be careful, dear.”

“Probably just the shower. I feel fine. Great, even. I have to go now. Good night, mother!” Malcolm exclaims with a wave as he hurries out the door, prancing down the stairs to the waiting car. He knows it’s not the shower—it’s the early signs of his heat setting in. The heat he plans on spending with his alpha, though Gil doesn’t know that yet.

He’s on edge the whole way over to Gil’s apartment, getting strange looks from the restaurant staff when he picks up his food because he can’t seem to stand still as he waits for them to bring it out. It’s to be expected, though. Malcolm’s not really sure how to label the upcoming conversation: a proposal? For all intents and purposes, he and Gil are already married. A contract? An arrangement for cohabitation? He’s not sure exactly what he wants his relationship with Gil to look like, or what Gil will expect from him if they take things further. All he knows is that he is ready to move ahead in their relationship, however that might look when they’ve finished talking at the end of the night.

He texts Gil as they leave the restaurant, and the alpha assures him he’s home and ready for him. Malcolm has to take several deep, calming breaths as he walks from the car to Gil’s apartment door, willing his leg to stay still and his hand to stop shaking as he waits for Gil to let him in. He’s sweating, again, and can’t ever remember being  _ this nervous _ , his heart pounding in his chest, his head spinning as he tries to remember the speech he’d prepared earlier in the day.

“Hey, kid. Come on in,” Gil greets him, smile as he swings the door open for him. 

Malcolm follows him in and they head straight to the kitchen. He’s only been here one other time, for their second date, when Gil had made him dinner and they’d spent the evening walking through the neighbor, talking and getting to know each other. He smiles at the memory. It had been a good night, and he can’t believe it had been only a week ago yesterday.

Gil pulls out plates and glasses as Malcolm unpacks the take-out; nothing fancy, just sandwiches from a local deli Gil had mentioned in passing one day. The alpha smiles when he sees the bag, clearly pleased by the choice.

They eat first, conversation flowing easily between them now as Malcolm asks after Gil’s work, and Gil asks about his family and the most recent project he’s working on for his mother. As they chat Malcolm realizes that he already talks about his work for his mother’s Trust like it’s his job anyways, and Gil’s genuine interest in what he’s doing makes Malcolm feel that much better about the conversation to come. He knows his anxiety is unfounded, but he can’t quite shake it, his nervous system still functioning on overdrive.

“Malcolm, are you feeling okay?” Gil asks as he finishes off his beer, sandwich long since devoured.

Malcolm glances down at his own half-eaten sub and sighs. His appetite is unpredictable at best, but today it’s been nearly non-existent. “I think I’m just nervous,” he admits.

Gil stills at that, his demeanor shifting, becoming more guarded. “Nervous?”

“Yeah I uh, I have some news! Good news,” Malcolm assures him. He doesn’t want Gil to worry or think something bad is coming. “They’re good nerves.”

“That’s great, kid! You wanna share now, or head to the living room?”

“Let’s go to the living room,” Malcolm suggests, knowing how long the conversation could stretch once they get started.

Gil grabs them both another drink and they make their way one room over into the apartment’s small living space. It’s cozy, with an overstuffed chair, a supple leather couch, and a small tv on a console that’s flanked on either side by full bookshelves. Malcolm feels himself relaxing even further as he sinks into the corner of the couch, surrounded by  _ Gil _ —his scent, his style. It feels safe. 

Gil sits down at the other end of the couch, watching him closely, his brows furrowed in concern despite Malcolm’s attempts at reassuring him nothing is wrong. The alpha’s nostrils flare as he sniffs the air for a sign of what might be wrong, frowning at whatever he smells. Malcolm hates seeing the worry on Gil’s face, so he launches into his news as soon as they’re settled in.

“My mother offered me a job with her Trust, a  _ real _ job. One that means something, that I want to do,” Malcolm tells him, spinning his beer bottle between his palms, just barely meeting Gil’s eyes as he speaks.

Gil’s face splits into a wide grin before Malcolm even finishes speaking, and Malcolm wonders what he’d ever been worried about in the first place. His alpha is clearly thrilled, happy that Malcolm is happy, and Malcolm can’t help but smile in return. Relief washes over him and he feels more relaxed than he has in days.

“That’s great news, Malcolm! You’ll do great, I’m sure of it,” Gil exclaims, reaching over to squeeze his knee and give it a little shake.

“Even though I’m an omega? A bonded omega? Bonded to you?” Malcolm presses. Gil’s excitement seems genuine, but he needs to be sure.

“Malcolm, of course!” Gil exclaims, reaching across the back of the couch to squeeze his shoulder. “You deserve to have your own life, and I think this is a great opportunity for you. Being bonded to me doesn’t change that at all.” His eyes drop down to his lap, and Malcolm can see that, though Gil absolutely means it, he’s also afraid of what giving Malcolm that freedom will mean for them.

“Thank you, Gil. That means, you have no idea what that means, actually,” Malcolm says, his throat tight with emotion as he sees just how much his alpha is willing to give up for him. He presses on, knowing what he says next will change  _ everything _ . “But um, there’s more. Or at least, there might be. I wanted to talk to you about some things, about our future, together.”

“Our future together?” Gil repeats, eyes flicking up to meet Malcolm’s in surprise as a small smile starts to pull at his lips.

“Yeah, if that’s what you want? Because I do. Want it, that is,” Malcolm says, scooting closer to Gil as he talks, never taking his eyes from the man’s face, watching his face, gauging his reaction to Malcolm’s words. 

“You know I do, Malcolm,” Gil huffs out, his own voice thick with emotion. He’s leaning forward now, too, ‘til there's only a few inches left between them.

Malcolm rests a hand on Gil’s knee, and stretches forward to close the distance, pressing his lips to the alpha’s. 

It’s not their first kiss, but it’s the first that Malcolm has initiated. It must take Gil by surprise, because he freezes for a breath before he kisses Malcolm back. The kiss starts soft and gentle, a firm press of their lips together, but nothing more. Then, Malcolm brings a hand up to wrap around the back of Gil’s neck and pull him even closer, sliding across the cushions ‘til his knees are pressed against Gil’s thighs. He swipes his tongue against the seam of Gil’s lips, a silent plea for  _ more _ . Gil gives him what he wants, opening to him and slipping his own tongue into Malcolm’s mouth, teasing and tasting. They stay like that for several long minutes, Gil finally bringing his own hands to rest on Malcolm’s waist, holding him close as they devour each other. 

Gil slips a hand beneath the hem of Malcolm’s shirt and rubs against the bare skin of his flank, scraping his fingers lightly down along his back. Malcolm groans against Gil’s lips, surging forward until he’s practically in the alpha’s lap.

Suddenly, Gil pulls away from the kiss, taking a firm hold of Malcolm’s hips and pushing him back as far as his reach will allow.

“Gil, what?” Malcolm breathes, looking over at the alpha in confusion. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no kid. Not at all. But uh, I think you should go. Before this goes too far.”

“Go? But, I thought you wanted this?” He doesn’t understand. He’s ready to  _ be with Gil _ . He thought that’s what Gil wanted too, that Gil wanted  _ him _ .

“I do, Malcolm. God, you have no idea how badly I want you. My fiery little omega,” Gil huffs. “Honestly, the things you do to me, kid, you don’t even know. But, I think this is going too fast.”

“It’s not, Gil.  _ Alpha _ . How can it be too fast when we should have been doing this all along?” Malcolm demands, leaning forward once more, resting a hand on Gil’s thigh, just past his knee.

“ _ Malcolm _ . I can’t—if I hurt you again, I’ll never forgive myself,” Gil admits, voice thick with regret and pain.

Malcolm softens at that, mollified by the assurance that  _ he’s  _ not the problem, not really. But he doesn’t give up. “Gil, I know what I’m doing,” he insists.

Gil grunts in response, face twisting into a scowl as he looks away. Malcolm grits his teeth. “Not like that, you  _ ass _ ,” he hisses out. The insult obviously takes Gil by surprise and his mouth falls open in shock. “I know what I  _ want _ ,” Malcolm amends. “I want you, Gil.” He doesn’t give the alpha the chance to reply, surging forward to kiss him once more. Before Gil can respond Malcolm moves, shifting off the couch to stand between the alpha’s legs, kissing him as he moves, chasing after Gil even when he tries to pull back.

He only pulls away when he starts to sink to his knees, settled between Gil’s legs, hands on his thighs, intent shining clear in his eyes as he looks up at his alpha. “Let me do this,  _ please _ ,” he begs. “If you want me, please trust that I want you, too. That I want  _ this _ . Let me make a choice for myself, for once. Please.”

Gil groans, head falling back against the couch as the fight bleeds out of him, and Malcolm knows he’s won. He slides his hands up the insides of Gil’s thighs as he shifts forward until his fly is in reach, then sets to work freeing Gil from his pants. The alpha is half hard already, cock filling rapidly as Malcolm pulls it out, rubbing his thumb softly along the silky smooth skin. Gil groans, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes filled with barely concealed desire. 

“Damn, kid. You’re gonna be the death of me,” he groans, eyes fluttering shut as Malcolm frees him fully from pants and underwear, slipping the band back behind his balls, rolling them in one hand as he strokes lightly along his cock with the other, quickly working him to full hardness.

Malcolm smirks up at the alpha, thrilled with the response. He knows what he’s doing, has done it before, but never with someone he wanted to please so badly, someone he wanted to watch fall apart beneath his hands, and mouth.

He works Gil with his hand until the alpha can’t sit still, his hands fisted on his own thighs, hips moving of their own accord, thrusting up into Malcolm’s grip. Then, Malcolm leans forward, and licks a stripe up the length of Gil’s cock before wrapping his lips around the head and sucking before pulling off with a pop. He looks up at Gil from beneath his lashes, grinning, as he takes him into his mouth fully, swirling his tongue around the sensitive head as he sucks around him once more.

Gil moans, low and long, one hand coming to rest on the crown on Malcolm’s head. He doesn’t pull, just scrapes his fingers along Malcolm’s scalp, pressing down softly, the pressure not enough to actually make Malcolm move anymore than he already is. 

Malcolm sighs around his alpha’s cock, and sets to work, sinking down onto the length, taking it as deep as he can before pulling back, following his mouth with his hand. He wants to hear Gil moan for him again, wants to drive him wild, make him lose his carefully maintained control, and he pulls out every trick he knows to make it happen; sucking, licking, slicking him up so the glide of his fist is just as wet as that of his mouth. It doesn’t take long for Gil to crack.

Malcolm knows when it happens, when Gil finally,  _ finally  _ gives over to him fully. His hand tightens in Malcolm’s hair, pulling at the strands in earnest after one particularly enthusiastic swallow, Malcolm taking Gil down almost to the base of his cock. Gil tightens his grip and thrusts up into Malcolm’s mouth, gagging him on his cock, though Malcolm doesn’t mind in the slightest, and fights against it when Gil tries to pull him off. He moans desperately around Gil instead, despite the tears streaming from his eyes and the burn from lack of oxygen.

“Malcolm, Malcolm, fuck. Kid, you—oh god, oh fuck,” Gil groans, and once he starts he doesn’t stop, the noises falling freely from his lips and spurring Malcolm on. 

He’s hard, too, his pants uncomfortably tight, and he slips a hand down between his own legs to pull himself free, stroking slowly as he works Gil towards completion. 

He doesn’t tease or try to drag it out too long. They’ve been dancing around each other long enough as it is, it’s time to get down to business. Gil’s hips are moving in tiny, shallow thrusts now, and Malcolm can tell he’s still trying valiantly to hold himself back from taking Malcolm too hard, this first time. Malcolm can take it, would love to choke on Gil’s cock even more, to have his face thoroughly fucked, but not tonight. Tonight, he wants to be in control.

He starts to move his head up and down at a quick, steady pace, ready to taste Gil on his lips, to swallow down his seed, to feel him come apart beneath him. 

“Guh, oh, I’m close. Fuck, baby. Baby, you feel so good. I’m gonna come,” Gil moans, both hands in Malcolm’s hair now as he struggles, clearly torn between pulling Malcolm off, and pressing him down so he can finish deep in his throat. Malcolm doesn’t let him set the pace ‘til he’s sure Gil won’t pull out before he finishes. There, at the end, Malcolm gives up control, and let’s Gil use his mouth, relaxing his neck and jaw and letting the alpha guide his head as he sees fit as he chases his completion. Malcolm focuses on his own cock, then, jerking himself quickly, listening to Gil lose it above him, groaning loudly as he pulls Malcolm’s head down, shooting his load deep into his throat as Malcolm swallows around him. 

Malcolm follows him over only moments later, groaning around Gil’s still pulsing cock as his orgasm rips through him and he spills into his own hand.

Gil releases him, flopping back against the couch, panting for breath as he comes down from his own orgasm, eyes closed, face relaxed, a mask of pure bliss as the afterglow of his release settles over him. Malcolm cleans Gil off with his tongue, making him gasp and wiggle at the attention his oversensitive cock is receiving. He finishes quickly, then tucks Gil back into his pants with one final kiss to the spongy-soft head of his cock.

Gil hums, smiling down at him with half-closed eyes. “Jesus, kid. When you want something, you really go after it, don’t you?” he mutters.

Malcolm huffs out a self-conscious little laugh, pushing himself to his feet. “Almost always,” he admits. “I’ll be right back.” He heads to the kitchen on unsteady legs, his own body still riding the high of his own orgasm, and he feels light, sated. Happy. Complete. He cleans himself off quickly before returning to the living room. Gil is sitting, sprawled across the couch, an arm slung over the back, legs spread, looking every inch the hyper-masculine, dominant alpha that Malcolm knows he’s really not. The sight sends a thrill of excitement through him anyways. He can’t wait for the day when Gil will feel comfortable enough with him to exert some of that alpha dominance. Not always, but maybe sometimes… every so often Malcolm wouldn’t mind being put in his place. Not if it’s by Gil.

“You okay, kid?” Gil asks, looking him over from head to toe as Malcolm approaches. 

“Never better,” Malcolm smirks. “What about you, old man? Was that too much for you?” 

“Old man,” Gil scoffs, shooting forward with a speed and grace that’s surprising to grab Malcolm around the waist and pull him down onto this lap. He grips the nape of Malcolm’s neck in one large hand, settling the other on his lower back and kissing him thoroughly ‘til Malcolm is breathless and boneless. “Impertinent pup,” Gil says, and it’s the only warning Malcolm gets before Gil pushes him off, onto the floor. 

He goes with a yelp, sprawling down at Gil’s feet as the alpha laughs. “I’ll show you old man,” he grumbles, poking at Malcolm’s stomach with his toes. Malcolm  _ giggles _ , curling in on himself in the face of the onslaught. He looks up at Gil, and sees the same adoration in the alpha’s eyes that he feels in his own heart.

“Take me to bed?” Malcolm whispers.

Gil shakes his head, bemused. “Insatiable pup, more like. I will, because I’m not kicking you out, and this couch isn’t comfortable enough for either of us to sleep on. But we’re not doing anything but sleeping, understand?”

“Yes sir,” Malcolm quips, and though he jokes, he takes Gil’s words to heart. He won’t press the alpha to go any further, not tonight. There will be time for that soon enough, and he’s happy to simply spend the night by his alpha’s side.

Gil pulls him to his feet, and leads him down the hall to the bedroom. He gives Malcolm an old NYPD t-shirt to change into and leaves him alone to change as he heads to the bathroom. Malcolm takes the moment of privacy to text his mother and let her know he won’t be home. She worries still when she doesn’t hear from him, and the last thing he needs is for her to send out a search party.

When they finally crawl into bed, Malcolm finds himself too tired to want to do anything but lay there in Gil’s arms anyways, drifting off to sleep with the alpha’s warm, broad chest pressed up against his back, listening to his steady breaths as they lull him into peaceful slumber.


	10. Heat

Malcolm wakes up slowly. He stretches, spreading out across the bed. It’s empty, and he pouts, but he knew it would be.

Gil had woken him earlier with a soft kiss to his forehead, and an apology that he had to go to work. Malcolm had smiled up at him, mumbled something sappy, and burrowed back into the sheets that smelled of  _ Gil _ and were still warm from the heat of his body.

Now, though, the covers feel stifling rather than comforting, and he shoves them off of him. He’s surprised to find he’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his borrowed shirt sticking uncomfortably to his chest and back.

Oh, right.  _ Heat _ , he thinks dully. It’s starting. Earlier than he’d thought, but he’d been expecting it soon, so he’s not entirely surprised. Especially considering how much time he’s spent with Gil the past two days, how close they’d been physically during that time, even sleeping in the same space. The prolonged proximity to his alpha has likely brought his heat on early. It’s his first heat as a bonded omega—things are likely to go a little differently than they have in the past. On top of that, this will be his first heat since they started that he hasn’t been on heat suppressants—forced heat notwithstanding. For most of his life, his heats have been little more than a day-long fever that leaves him stuck in bed, sweaty and a little more horny than usual. For now, he’s just a little warm, his senses heightened slightly, and he feels on edge, but none of it is unbearable. 

Malcolm checks the clock on the bedside table. 10 A.M. Much later than he usually sleeps, but that’s also to be expected. He spends several more minutes in bed, burying his face in the pillow Gil had used and inhaling the alpha’s scent as he shakes off the lingering grip of sleep on his body. He squirms to the edge of the bed and finds his phone on the floor. Unsurprisingly, Jessica has texted him several times already this morning. He sighs, and calls her as he makes his way to the kitchen.

“Good morning, mother,” he greets her once she answers.

“Is it?” she bites out. 

Malcolm sighs. “You’re upset. I’m sorry, I honestly just woke up. I hope you didn’t worry too much. I told you where I’d be.”

Jessica hums noncommittally, but he can just picture her rolling her eyes in exasperation. “You’re right, you did. Of course I wasn’t worried. I just wanted to see how things went. Well, I’m assuming?”

“Yes mother, they did. Very well. And thank you, again, for all of your help. But um, hmm. I do have some slightly bad news. I won’t be able to start right away,” he confesses. Even as he speaks a wave of warmth mixed with a sharp, sudden spark of arousal washes over him, making him literally weak in the knees. He has to throw out a hand to catch himself on the wall to keep from going to the floor. It passes as soon as it comes, but he decides he should probably hurry things along.

“And why is that?” his mother is asking. “That alpha of yours isn’t trying to keep you there, is he?”

“Not exactly.  _ Not yet anyways _ ,” he adds under his breath before rushing through the rest of his admission. “Um. I’m starting my heat, actually. So uh, probably won’t be back for a few days.”

“I see,” Jessica bites out. “Well I guess I’m not surprised, though I didn’t realize it would be  _ quite _ so soon.”

“Honestly mother, neither did I. This is all a little new for me,” he explains. “Could you have some of my things sent over? Clothes, my toothbrush?” he asks.

“ _ Malcolm _ ,” Jessica begins, and he can tell already a lecture is coming. He bites back on a groan as another wave hits him. Something must get through, though, because she sighs softly before continuing, her tone subdued. “Yes, of course love. Whatever you need. Just, text me if there’s anything else, alright? You’ll be okay, truly?”

Malcolm smiles at the concern in her voice, and has no doubt that if he said  _ no _ , she would come and collect him immediately. “Yes mother, truly. Honestly, I’m happy to be here,” he assures her, smiling despite himself. 

They say good-bye, and Malcolm hangs up, dropping his phone on the counter and heading towards the shower. He doesn’t know how late Gil works, but based on how early he went in, it can’t be  _ that _ late. He’ll take a cool shower, maybe take the edge off while he’s in there, and take it easy until his alpha comes home.

It doesn’t take long for him to realize his plan will not work. The shower helps—for about five minutes. Then the heat returns full-force. He’s covered in sweat almost immediately, and can’t focus on anything but his own body; how warm he is, the way he’s starting to get wet between his legs, how badly he wants to just be  _ touched _ . He could wait, but it would be miserable, and he’d be so far gone by the time Gil got home he wouldn’t be able to explain things to him, either. And he wants to explain.

He gives in, and calls Gil.

“Hey kid, you finally wake up?” Gil asks, answering on the second ring.

“ _ Alpha _ ,” Malcolm whines as soon as he hears the man’s voice. It’s not how he’d intended to start the conversation, but he can’t help himself. Need surges through him as soon as Gil speaks.

“Malcolm, what’s wrong?” Gil asks, his voice tight with concern.

“Ah, shit. Sorry, Gil,” Malcolm huffs out, getting himself under control. He sounds so worried, and Malcolm feels horrible, hurrying to reassure him. “Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine, I swear. I just, um…Shit, I need you,  _ Gil _ ,” he admits, practically moaning the alpha’s name. “My heat…it’s starting. Any chance you could come home?”

“What? Malcolm!” Gil exclaims, part surprise, part exasperation. “Yeah, yeah of course kid. I’ll be there in less than an hour, okay? Do you need anything?”

“Just you,” Malcolm replies sappily.

“You have me, Malcolm,” Gil tells him, voice low, soothing. “I’ll be there soon. I’m going to take care of you. Drink some water, and make sure you eat something, alright? You gotta keep your strength up for me,” Gil instructs. 

Malcolm can hear rustling in the background and knows that Gil is already gathering his things and preparing to leave. “I’ll be ready for you. Just come home,” he whines.

Gil curses, promises to see him soon, and they hang up.

Malcolm settles himself on the couch with a glass of water and a random assortment of semi-healthy snacks he finds in Gil’s pantry. He drinks the water and eats what he can before he starts to drift in and out of something like sleep, shifting and twitching fitfully as he tries in vain to get comfortable. All he can think about is how  _ empty  _ he feels, alone and adrift without the presence of his alpha to calm him, soothe him. 

He wakes enough to answer the door and collect his things when his mother’s driver arrives. As soon as he leaves Malcolm heads to the bedroom, stripping down to his underwear, shedding the clothes he’d put on solely for the poor driver’s sake. He snags the borrowed t-shirt he’d worn to bed off the floor and bunches it up, holding it right under his nose as he crawls back into Gil’s bed to wait for him to get home.

As promised, his alpha is there within an hour. He calls out Malcolm’s name as soon as he comes into the apartment, and Malcolm responds with little more than a muffled groan that’s just loud enough to reveal his location.

He can smell Gil as soon as the alpha walks into the room, and he turns towards him with a needy whine, legs spreading instinctually.

“ _ Jesus _ , Malcolm,” Gil whispers, face flushing as he takes in the sight before him. “Why didn’t you tell me last night? I never would have left.” He doesn’t sound mad, but he’s clearly confused, and Malcolm doesn’t blame him.

“‘M sorry, didn’t know it’d be this fast,” Malcolm mutters, pushing himself up on his elbows to watch as Gil starts to work his way out of his own clothes. “Would’ve said something, if I knew. Thought I had time.”

“It’s okay, kid. This faster than normal?” Gil asks, stripped down to just his pants. He settles down on the bed next to Malcolm and rests his hand on the back of his neck, thumb rubbing soothingly across Malcolm’s overheated skin.

Malcolm sucks in a breath at the contact, eyes falling shut as Gil’s touch sends sparks dancing along his skin, igniting the heat that had been simmering inside of him and a desperate need for  _ more _ . He finds himself fighting back on the urge to throw himself into his alpha’s lap, or turn over and present right then and there, biology quickly winning over coherent thought. “I don’t know. I’ve never… this is my first real heat,” he admits shakily, trying to bring his body back under his control.

Gil grunts, hand tightening on his neck for a moment as he raises an eyebrow, bemused. “First time? Kid, if you didn’t notice, we’ve done this before.” He chuckles, but it’s strained, his eyes roaming over Malcolm’s body, nostrils flared as he the ever-increasing scent of the pheromones soaking the air, proof of Malcolm’s need seeping out of him.

“That wasn’t a real heat. I don’t know how this all goes,” Malcolm hisses. “I’ve always been on suppressants. I don’t  _ know _ .”

“Okay, okay. I’ve got you, Malcolm,” Gil assures him, rubbing at his neck gently once more, then brushing sweat-soaked strands of hair back from his forehead. He smiles, though it’s tight, strained. Malcolm can tell that he’s holding himself back, so he reaches forward to wrap a hand around the back of the alpha’s neck and drag him down into a kiss.

Gil goes willinging, kissing him firmly, but pulling back when Malcolm parts his lips and tries to deepen it and take things further. Malcolm whines when Gil pulls away, and the alpha chuckles. “Patience, kid. We’ll get to that soon. You still with me?” he checks.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, yeah,” Malcolm replies. He’d drifted a bit, floating mindlessly in a chemical induced haze. He focuses on his alpha, and can see that he's still hesitant, keeping himself in check despite his  _ obvious  _ interest in moving things along, and he doesn’t understand why. “Gil? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing Malcolm. I just—are you  _ sure _ this is what you want?”

Malcolm bites back on a groan of frustration. Up until now he’s admired Gil’s restraint and patience. Now, he wishes the alpha would give in and just  _ take him already. _ He shifts, sitting up and cuping the alpha’s cheek.

“Yes,  _ yes _ , Gil. I am. I knew when I came here I’d be spending my heat with you. Maybe not this soon, but it’s what I wanted, even then. What I still want,” Malcolm assures him, “Maybe we should have talked about it—I thought we’d be able to today. But,  _ please  _ Gil. I want you.”

Gil nods, turning his head to press a kiss to Malcolm’s palm. He slides into the bed next to Malcolm and lays him down, spreading out along his side, propped up on his elbow as he looks down at Malcolm, running a finger across his forehead and down along his jaw, sliding under his chin and then tilting his head up for another kiss. Malcolm smiles as their lips meet, settling back against the pillows, forcing Gil to follow him down until he’s leaning over Malcolm, half on top of him.

They kiss, deep and hard, for several long moments, Malcolm’s heat building steadily as they do. He can feel the slick dripping out of him and he’s hard, though the ache in his cock is just one of many sensations that are threatening to overwhelm him as Gil continues to kiss him.

The alpha pulls away, sitting back to look down at Malcolm, hunger in his eyes. Malcolm can see that he’s hard, too, his erection tenting his boxers. Gil’s eyes drift over him, and Malcolm can practically feel his gaze as it rakes over his nearly naked body. Gil slowly takes in his flushed, heaving chest, his own hard cock where it’s trapped in his boxer briefs, which are now soaked with slick. Malcolm whines in the face of Gil’s scrutiny, desperate for him to touch and not just look. As if reading his mind, Gil does just that, running his palm across the flat panes of Malcolm’s stomach, up along his ribs to his chest where he plucks at a nipple, drawing a gasp from Malcolm, before sweeping back down. 

Malcolm whines, legs moving fitfully as Gil continues his silent exploration until Malcolm can hardly take it anymore.

He reaches out to wrap his arms around Gil’s neck and pull him in for another kiss, but Gil stops him, gripping his wrists tightly and pinning them down to the mattress in a strong, unbreakable grip. Malcolm whines at the denial, twisting and trying to free himself from the alpha’s hold on him. 

When he does, something snaps inside of him, overwhelming enough to counter how much he  _ wants _ . An unexpected rush of terror courses through him, the feeling of being trapped igniting a fear in him so intense that for a moment it overrides the drive of his heat. 

“Shit, shit, no. Please,” he cries out, struggling against Gil’s hold in earnest, twisting to put as much space between himself and the alpha bearing down on him as he can. 

Gil releases him almost immediately, pulling back so quickly he nearly throws himself from the bed, but Malcolm doesn’t notice. 

“Please don’t keep me here! Don’t trap me here, please!” He continues to beg, tears streaming down his cheeks as panic threatens to consume him.

“Malcolm, Malcolm! I’m sorry, I’m sorry love, it’s okay,” he hears Gil saying, and finally something in his voice, or maybe the way his scent has shifted from lust to deep concern, gets through to Malcolm and he stills, chest heaving as he sucks in each breath, eyes darting all around as he takes stock of his position. 

He’s crowded himself against the headboard, as far from Gil as he can get, curled in on himself protectively. Gil is perched, just barely, on the edge of the bed, watching him with an expression so full of devastation that Malcolm nearly starts to cry once more as he realizes what he’s done.

“Oh my god, Gil. I’m  _ so sorry _ , I don’t… I have no idea what…” he says, uncurling himself and crawling across the bed on hands and knees. He reaches out to cup Gil’s face in his hand, searching his eyes for some clue as to what Gil is thinking.

With the mind numbing terror gone, Malcolm’s heat returns with full force, a shudder going through his body as he touches his alpha, and it takes everything he has not to throw himself at him and beg to be taken. But he knows, in the last coherent part of his mind, that they have to work through whatever just happened, first.

“ _ Malcolm _ ,” Gil gasps, voice thick with emotion. He reaches out, slowly, to rest his hands on Malcolm’s waist, rubbing gently up and down along his sides. “Malcolm, I’m—I had  _ no  _ idea.’

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Neither did I. That was…I think maybe you better not pin me down like that. It…brought back some memories. From when they—”

“You mean when  _ I, _ ” Gil cuts in, turning his head away from Malcolm’s touch, scowling.

“No.  _ No _ , not that. I swear, Gil. I think… I think they chained me up  _ before _ they drugged me,” he admits. He remembers, vaguely, being strapped down as they taunted him, then forced him to take a pill... 

It’s not what he wants to think or talk about, not now or ever again, but he needs Gil to know that this is not his fault. “I swear, it wasn’t anything you did. I was too far gone by then to care.”

The alpha’s scowl deepens at that and Malcolm huffs in frustration, crawling forward to wiggle his way into Gil’s lap, straddling his hips and rocking against him. They’re both still hard, their bodies ready for what they know is to come, the chemicals doing their work, driving them towards the inevitable. Malcolm knows, and he knows that Gil knows, that it’s too late to walk away from this. But he doesn’t want what happened hanging over their heads when it’s over. Not this time.

“Gil, stop. I,  _ hng _ ,” he groans as he feels Gil move, shifting himself more firmly onto the bed and settling Malcolm more securely in his lap. “I was mad, after. You know that. But I’m not now. I don’t blame you for anything.  _ Fuck _ , Gil.” He’s panting with want and can barely get the words out. He has one hand wrapped around Gil’s neck, fingers curling in his hair, the other on his shoulder as he moves, practically riding the alpha though they’re both still covered.

“Shit, kid. I’m not going to be able to hold back much longer.  _ Fuck _ , the way you move,” Gil grits out, his hands still clutching tightly to Malcolm’s waist, just above his hips. “I need to know you’re okay. That you’re okay with this,  _ guh _ . With  _ me _ .”

“I am, I am,” Malcolm repeats, over and over into the smooth skin of Gil’s neck, kissing and sucking lightly there between each reassurance. “I’m very, very okay. Just, no holding down my wrists. Not yet,” he teases.

Gil groans, head thrown back as Malcolm sucks along his jawline. The alpha starts to move his hands again, sliding them down along Malcolm's hips to cup his ass and squeeze, pulling him in tight to thrust up against him in time with Malcolm’s movements. They both groan at that and the pressure against his cock leaves Malcolm panting, open mouthed, against Gil’s neck.

“Alpha, take me, please,” he whimpers, curling himself around the other man, erasing any space that may have been left between them. “Need you, I need you, now. Please.”

“Yeah kid, yeah, I’ve got you. Gonna take such good care of you. My little omega. I’ll make you mine forever this time.”

Malcolm moans at the promise in Gil’s voice, a full-bodied shudder running through him at his alpha’s words.

“You gotta let go, Malcolm. Come on, lay down for me,” Gil coaxes, scooting them further onto the bed as best as he can with Malcolm still clinging to him. “Let’s get these off of you.”

Malcolm complies eagerly, releasing his hold on Gil. He lays back and lifts his hips so Gil can pull down his underwear, leaving him bare and filling the air with the scent of his need as slick drips freely from his body.

“ _ Malcolm _ ,” Gil breaths, looking down on Malcolm from where he sits between his legs. He slides his hands up the insides of Malcolm’s thighs, spreading his legs further as he looks him over, eyes falling to where Malcolm is leaking slick, the shine of it evident on his thighs and ass. 

Malcolm moans loudly as Gil dips the fingers of one hand down behind his balls, between his cheeks to where he’s wet and aching to be filled. 

“Oh,  _ fuck _ , alpha. Why are you still dressed?” Malcolm demands, squirming beneath Gil’s touch.

“Spread for me, baby,” Gil orders, sliding one of Malcolm’s knees up and out and pressing down on his thigh to hold him still as he runs a finger around Malcolm’s rim, pressing against the muscle just enough to tease before circling once more.

“I didn’t get to do this last time,” Gil muses, eyes lidded as he looks down to where he’s toying with Malcolm. “I didn’t get the chance to get you all worked up for me, until you just couldn’t wait anymore. I’m going to go slow, this time. Work you over until you’re screaming my name. Then I’ll fill you up, give you what you need and knot this little hole of yours.”

Malcolm whines, throwing his head back against the pillows as Gil continues to tease. “Oh,  _ no _ . Please, Gil,  _ alpha _ , please, I need you now. Oh god, don’t make me wait,” he begs. Now that they’re here, and he’s naked and dripping, he can’t think of anything but Gil’s knot, filling and stretching him. “Please alpha.  _ Please _ , I need you.”

“What do you need, little omega? Hmm? Tell me, tell me what you want,” Gil orders, sliding the tip of his finger into Malcolm.

“Oh, oh yes,” Malcolm groans as Gil starts to fuck him slowly with his finger, pressing in a little further with each stroke, playing with his rim as he pulls out, even though Malcolm is already loose and ready for him, his body relaxed, eager for his alpha’s cock, his knot. “H- _ hngg _ . How are you so patient?” Malcolm demands, trying to shift his hips and fuck himself down further onto Gil’s finger. The alpha’s grip on his leg tightens and keeps him in place, and Malcolm groans in frustration.

“Practice, kid,” Gil huffs out, voice thick with lust. “Trust me, I can’t wait to knot you. But I want to see you squirming on my fingers, see how desperate you are for me first. As soon as I get inside you, my rut will set in for real, and I won’t be interested in teasing anymore. I’m gonna enjoy this while I can,” Gil explains, slipping a second finger in alongside the first.

“Oh, fuck. That’s not fair,” Malcolm whines, hands fisted in the sheets as Gil starts to fuck him faster, scissoring his fingers as he does. “I’m ready for you. Alpha,  _ alpha _ , I’m ready, I don’t need…  _ fu-uck. _ I just need you.”

“Oh I know you do, baby. I can feel how ready you are for my knot. You’re opening up for me so well. God, you’re so fucking wet, and you smell amazing,” Gil grunts. He stretches out on the bed and drops his face between Malcolm’s legs, licking a stripe up the soft, sensitive skin of his inner thigh, cleaning off the slick there. 

Malcolm howls, writhing beneath the alpha’s tongue as he continues to lick and nip at his thigh before switching sides. “Oh my god, Gil,” he cries out, hands coming to rest on Gil’s head, fingers scraping along his scalp as he just barely keeps himself from grabbing onto his hair and pulling his mouth up to where he desperately wants it to be. 

Malcolm has never, ever been so turned on in his life. Even though he’d been a virgin when Gil had claimed him, he does have  _ experience _ —he’d been  _ trained _ , made to  _ practice _ , and often those lessons had left him hard and wanting, leading to a quick and dirty session with his own hand at the end of the day, alone in his bed. He’d hated himself for it, for how his body had responded to giving another man pleasure while taking none for himself, but there was nothing he could do about it. It’s biology, his body is programmed to service, to please. That’s what he was told.

But this… this is new. His  _ alpha  _ is servicing  _ him _ , delaying his own pleasure to drive Malcolm mad with want, as if he isn’t already hard and aching for Gil’s cock, isn’t already loose and slick and sloppy. It’s nothing like he was taught to expect, and any barriers that had remained around his heart, any doubts or hesitation that had been holding him back, are disappearing quickly beneath Gil’s ministrations. He’ll gladly be a kept omega if being taken by Gil feels like this. 

Gil swipes the flat of his tongue across Malcolm’s hole and Malcolm forgets how to breathe. His alpha laps at him steadily before pressing in with the tip of his tongue, breaching the ring of muscle easily and flicking his tongue against his sensitive inner walls. 

“Oh,  _ oh _ , god. Gil, what...?” Malcolm gasps out as the alpha continues to work him open with his tongue, alternating between light flicks against his rim and deep pushes of his tongue into his hole, keeping Malcolm on edge, unable to settle into the sensation. “Alpha, alpha, oh, oh fuck. My alpha,” Malcolm moans senselessly, hands scrambling in Gil’s hair, legs moving restlessly as he fights the urge to wrap them around Gil’s head and pull him in tight so he can grind himself against his mouth, take his tongue in even deeper…

Gil reaches a hand up and takes hold of Malcolm’s cock, swiping his thumb over the head to collect the precome gathered there and spread it down along his length. 

Malcolm bucks up into his grip and Gil lets him, releasing the hold he still had on Malcolm’s hip and wrapping his hand around his thigh instead, pressing his leg up to the side to give himself better access to Malcolm’s hole. Malcolm fucks up into Gil’s hand, then back down onto his tongue, and realizes he isn’t going to last much longer.

“Gil, Gil, I’m… oh fuck. I’m going to come. Gil,” he warns, unable to stop moving, feeling his orgasm building low in his belly as Gil quickens his pace and sends him hurtling towards completion.

Malcolm whines, high and desperate as his fingers tighten in Gil’s hair and he can’t help but pull as he comes, Gil stroking him through it ‘til he’s wriggling uncomfortably. “Ung, stop, please,” he begs, twisting away as the sensation becomes too much to bear.

Gil pulls back and sits up, lips bright red and glistening with spit and slick, mouth hanging open as he pants. Malcolm blinks up at him, and Gil meets his eyes before deliberately flicking his tongue out to lick along his own lips, moaning softly as he gathers up the slick left there. 

“Oh fuck,” Malcolm whimpers at the sight of Gil looking so wrecked from just the taste of him, his cock already starting to fill again. He won’t really be satisfied until he has Gil’s knot in him, his seed filling him and cooling the heat burning in his belly still. But the orgasm was enough to take the edge off at least, so he can gather himself enough to push up and start to work at getting Gil’s boxers off. “Fuck me, alpha. Take me, fill me,  _ breed  _ me,” he urges as he works.

Gil groans, adding his own hands to the effort, stripping down quickly until they are both finally, blessedly naked. Malcolm runs his hands over every inch of the alpha’s skin that he can reach before Gil stops him.

“Turn over, baby, c’mon. Present for me, that’s it, good boy,” he praises as Malcolm turns over to his front, leaning on his elbows and arching so his ass in on full display for his alpha, ready to be filled. “There you are, my sweet omega,” Gil groans, laying his palms across the globes of Malcolm’s ass and spreading them, baring his sopping wet hole. 

Malcolm looks back over his shoulder to see Gil staring down at him in obvious appreciation, his cock jutting out, the bulge of his knot already visible at the base. Malcolm shudders at the sight, head dropping back down between his shoulders as Gil presses both thumbs against his hole, spreading him open, testing the give there one last time.

“You’re so very ready for me, aren’t you love?” Gil murmurs, finally taking himself in hand and pressing the tip of his cock against Malcolm’s entrance.

“ _ Yes _ , yes alpha. So ready for your cock, your knot. Fill me, please. Need you,” Malcolm begs shamelessly. Whatever reprieve from the aching intensity of his heat his orgasm had bought him is gone already, the only thought left in his mind that of being filled, being claimed.

“God, Malcolm. I don’t deserve you,” Gil moans. Even as he speaks he presses in, sliding easily into the tight, wet heat of Malcolm’s body.

Malcolm keens as he’s filled, his body opening readily for his alpha. He can feel every inch of Gil’s cock as he presses in, though—the slow, steady glide of his hard length against the most sensitive parts of him driving the last of his own awareness from his mind until all he knows is  _ Gil _ , and how perfect he feels inside of him.

He loses himself to his heat as Gil seats himself fully. All that matters is being knotted and filled and marked again, and again. Gil starts slowly, pulling out and pressing in carefully several times as he works Malcolm open on his cock. The omega can just barely feel the press of Gil’s knot against his rim, the base engorged but not full enough to really stretch him wide or fill him. He needs that knot, can’t wait to be filled and stretched around it, tied to his alpha as he breeds him.

Finally, Gil starts to increase his pace, fucking into Malcolm with quick, steady strokes of his cock that drive the air from Malcolm’s lungs with each thrust. He adjusts his angle, maneuvering Malcolm’s hips until he fucks into him and hits his prostate dead on, driving a shocked cry from Malcolm as pleasure sparks across his nerve endings and he feels like he’s being set ablaze, the heat inside of him building and building as Gil hits that spot with nearly every thrust. It takes him several long moments to realize he’s moaning like a whore, cursing and begging as Gil fucks him faster, his knot swelling and pressing against Malcolm’s rim, stretching him more and more with each thrust, driving Malcolm steadily towards a second orgasm.

He’s not ready, yet. He wants to come on Gil’s knot, not before. He wants Gil to feel the evidence of the pleasure his alpha is giving him as he clenches around him.

“Gil, fuck, oh god. Need your knot, please. Gonna come, want your knot,” he gasps out—barely—panting between each word as the alpha rocks into him. He’s driving into him hard and fast now, and the only thing keeping Malcolm from slamming against the headboard with each thrust is the firm grip Gil has on his hips.

Even as he’s speaking Gil slides one hand up to wrap around his shoulder and pull him up and back, sliding in fully and keeping Malcolm filled as he manhandles him into position; both of them up on their knees, Malcolm pulled back flush against Gil’s strong, broad chest, his head lolling on his shoulder as he bares his neck for Gil’s bite. Malcolm gasps as Gil starts to thrust up into him once more. The alpha has both arms wrapped around Malcolm’s chest, holding him firmly in place as he fucks into him, knot catching and pulling at his rim with each and every stroke. 

“God, you feel so good kid. Can’t believe you’re mine. Gonna fill you up so good, fuck you full of my seed ’til your dripping. Gonna fill you with my pup,” Gil groans into his ear, his breath hot and wet against the sensitive shell, his words and the tickle of air sending shivers down Malcolm’s spine and he moans, clutching at Gil’s arms where they’re wrapped tight around him, the only things holding him up as he’s pounded into.

“Knot me, Gil. C’mon, give it to me,” he urges, pushing back against each thrust as best as he can within Gil’s tight grip. “Knot me, and bite me. Show everyone who I belong to.”

Gil groans, low and long as his thrusts start to become more erratic, his knot pulling more and more at Malcolm’s rim. “Touch yourself, kid. I want you coming when I fill you,” he orders.

“Oh fuck,” Malcolm grunts, reaching down to fist himself and stripping his cock in quick pulls that match the pace of Gil’s thrusts as best he can. “I’m so close, alpha, ready for your knot.”

Gil is panting behind him, grunting with each thrust as he nears his own completion, knot barely slipping free. Finally he thrusts in fully, knot slipping past Malcolm’s rim and staying as Gil pulls him down and holds him in place, grinding up into him and sinking his teeth into Malcolm’s neck.

Malcolm cries out as the  _ painpleasurepain _ of the bite and being spread wide on Gil’s knot surges through him and finally sends him tipping over the edge. He comes hard, vision whiting out as Gil deepens the bite, marking him more thoroughly than he hand during their first bond, claiming Malcolm as his once more, for all the world to see.

When he comes back to himself, Gil is still holding him up, pressing gentle kisses against his shoulder, soothing away the pain from the bite. Malcolm sighs contentedly as he feels Gil’s knot pulsing still, his seed filling him, soothing the pulsing heat inside of him. For now.

“You with me, babe?” Gil murmurs softly into his ear, sucking the lobe into the heat of his mouth, making Malcolm mewl softly. He’s not ready for more, not yet. Gil’s rut has set in though, he can smell it. The alpha’s scent has become almost overpowering, and he’s still grinding greedily against Malcolm’s ass. 

Malcolm nods, lifting a hand to wrap lazily back around Gil’s neck and pulling him into a kiss. They spend several long minutes tasting each other, tongues sliding in and out, both men gasping into the other’s mouth. Finally, Malcolm sags, leaning heavily against Gil, suddenly bone tired and barely able to hold himself upright.

“Easy love. Let’s get settled. Gonna lay us down now, alright?”

“Yes,” Malcolm agrees sleepily, practically falling down to the pillows as soon as Gil releases him, careful not to pull against where they’re still firmly connected.

His alpha chuckles, settling himself behind Malcolm, rearranging Malcolm’s limbs as he sees fit until they’re tucked up close together and Gil’s arms are wrapped around him once more. He flattens one hand low on Malcolm’s stomach, over where his cock is still deep inside of him, and presses down, as if he can feel himself there. Malcolm moans, rocking back against him though there’s barely any space there for him to move with how tightly they’re already pressed together. Gil grunts as he does, pressing his lips against the bond mark once more before kissing his way up Malcolm’s neck.

Malcolm sighs, content, temporarily sated, safe. He sleeps.

  
  



	11. Complete

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT NOTE AT END.

Gil dozes, but never falls into the deep, exhausted sleep that Malcolm does. He holds the omega close, one leg thrown over the smaller man’s hip, his hand sweeping up and down in gentle strokes along his side and back. Twenty minutes pass before his knot starts to deflate, and it’s another fifteen before he can pull out fully. Malcolm stirs in his sleep when he does, but doesn’t wake. Gil props himself up on one elbow and wraps his other arm more securely around Malcolm’s waist, reveling in the feeling of having the omega so near, heart soaring with the knowledge that Malcolm wants to be there with him as well.

He watches Malcolm sleep, and smiles a small, contented smile at the sight.

He’d known that Malcolm’s heat had to be approaching soon, but he’d been hesitant to bring it up. Things had been going well between them, better than he ever could have hoped, and yet he feared pushing too hard too fast. He didn’t want to make any assumptions about how Malcolm planned on spending his heat, either. Despite being bonded and having the legal right, he would never force the omega to be with him during his heat if it wasn’t what Malcolm wanted.

When Malcolm had called, begging for his alpha to come home, Gil could hardly believe it. JT had been in the office with him at the time, and had laughed aloud at the way Gil’s jaw had gone slack in momentary shock, and the way his face had flushed red hot in equal parts embarrassment and arousal. 

He’d convinced himself Malcolm would never want him like that again. Coming home to find Malcolm so needy, so desperate for  _ him  _ had nearly driven him mad with the primal urge to  _ take him _ immediately. He’d waited so long, let the bond mark fade to almost nothing. He wanted—needed—to stake his claim once more. Only his years of caring for Jackie during her heat, his knowledge of what his omega would need from him, aside from just his knot, kept him from mounting Malcolm then and there. 

And then he’d held Malcolm down, frightened him so badly…Gil had nearly fled in his panic, rut and heat be damned. His deepest fear is hurting Malcolm again, or driving a deeper wedge between them, one that he won’t be able to overcome again. But Malcolm had come to him, reassured him,  _ begged  _ him. And while he may have been heat crazed, he wasn’t drugged, wasn’t out of his mind with need. He  _ wanted  _ Gil, and Gil had never wanted anyone so badly in his life.

Malcolm starts to stir, whining softly as he shifts in his sleep, pressing his bottom back against Gil and rubbing himself unconsciously against the alpha. Gil grunts in surprise and sudden arousal, and his cock begins to take an immediate interest in the warm body pressed up snug against him. He slides the hand resting on Malcolm’s stomach up to tease at a nipple, drawing a breathy moan from the omega as his eyes begin to flutter open. Gil smiles as he watches Malcolm wake slowly. He continues to tease, rubbing and squeezing until the nub stiffens to a hard peak before moving to the other side. Malcolm moans once more, louder, hips rolling back against Gil’s in a slow, sensual grind.

Gil drops his head to lick a line along the rim of Malcolm’s ear before whispering a filthy promise of what he intends to do when Malcolm wakes. The omega shudders, eyes flying open at Gil’s words. He turns his head quickly, reaching up a hand to wrap around Gil’s neck and pull him into a desperate kiss. Gil smiles against his lips and scratches his fingernails lightly across Malcolm’s chest, then down, along his stomach until he reaches the omega’s straining cock. He wraps a loose fist around him and starts to stroke in soft, teasing pulls.

Malcolm pulls away from the kiss with a gasp, throwing his head back against the pillow, the gasp turning to a long, low groan.

“Alpha,” he whimpers. “Please,  _ more _ .”

“More what, little omega?” Gil teases. “Here?” He tightens his grip on Malcolm’s cock, jerking him in earnest, thumbing at his slit to collect the precome already leaking freely and spreading it down along his shaft.

“ _ Ahhh _ , fuck, yes… _ no _ !” Malcolm groans, thrusting up into Gil’s hand then grinding back into his cock. “Need you inside, your knot. Fill me, please alpha.”

Gil groans, nipping at Malcolm’s neck as a wave of need rolls through him at the omega’s words. All his reservations from earlier are gone, and his rut has fully set in, unhindered by conscience or doubt. The body before him is his for the taking, for the claiming. Malcolm is  _ his  _ omega, wholly and irrevocably. 

Gil releases his hold on Malcolm’s cock after one final stroke, then presses against Malcolm’s shoulder, guiding him face down against the mattress. Malcolm moans, rutting against the covers wantonly, his ass moving in enticing little circles as he does. Gil slaps that pert little bottom lightly, just hard enough to draw a surprised little laugh from the omega’s lips.

“Present for me, love. C’mon, let me see how ready you are for me,” Gil orders. He takes hold of Malcolm’s hips and pulls them up, not bothering to wait for the omega to comply. He’s ready to mount him, his knot already starting to swell in anticipation of filling the omega’s tight, wet hole. He keeps one hand wrapped firmly around one hip, holding the omega in place as he slips the other hand between his legs, squeezing his balls lightly before swiping up along his perineum, gathering the slick that’s already dripped down from Malcolm’s hole. He presses one finger against Malcolm’s entrance—a tease, and nothing more. He knows his boy is ready for him, loose and wet. Malcolm gasps and squirms, trying to press back onto the finger and take it deeper.

“That’s not what you really want, is it?” Gil asks, his voice a low rumble as he takes his cock in hand, coating it in Malcolm’s slick before pressing the head up against the omega.

“Want your cock, Gil. Please, oh  _ fuck yes _ ,” Malcolm gaps when Gil presses against him. “Oh fuck, fill me,  _ pl-ease _ ,” the omega whines, high and needy, wriggling his ass eagerly.

“ _ God _ , Malcolm, you look so good like this. My little omega, so good for me,” Gil grunts, then presses in. Malcolm’s body opens to him willingly and he sheaths himself fully in one steady push, groaning as he bottoms out. He holds tight to Malcolm’s hips, determined to keep the omega from fucking himself on Gil’s cock, wanting to enjoy the bliss of being buried deep inside him for a moment longer. “You’re so perfect, Malcolm. You take me so well, like you were made for me,” Gil praises, running a hand across Malcolm’s back, along his spine and down again, watching the play of muscles there as Malcolm squirms and struggles beneath Gil’s controlling grip. 

“Gil, fuck. Fuck, please, move,” Malcolm begs, looking back over his shoulder at Gil, desperation shining bright in his heat glazed eyes. 

Gil groans, the sight of Malcolm so needy and desperate for his cock making it impossible to stay still any longer. He slides out slowly, nearly all the way, then thrusts back in with one sharp twitch of his hips. Malcolm gasps out a curse beneath him, fingers scrambling at the covers as Gil repeats the motion several more times—slow drag out, quick thrust deep inside. 

“Alpha, please! God, you’re,  _ oh _ …you’re driving me  _ crazy _ ,” Malcolm whines. “Faster, please, wanna feel your knot.”

Gil grunts as Malcolm tightens around him, squeezing his knot when he bottoms out once more. “Little minx. You want my knot, huh? Want me to fuck you good and hard, claim you? Breed you?” He sets a more steady pace with his thrusts, but doesn’t speed up, determined to drive Malcolm wild before taking him in earnest, revelling in his total control over the omega’s body.

Malcolm whines and moans beneath him, spreading his knees further, trying to change the angle of Gil’s thrusts, seeking more than what the alpha is willing to give him. “Gil, please, please, what are you…? Yes, yes I want you to take me, fucking  _ breed  _ me. Fill me, please.” He glances back at Gil once more, eyes wide and pleading, and Gil grins, a toothy, feral smile that makes Malcolm shudder.

“So desperate for me, little omega. Tell me whose you are, who owns this sweet little ass of yours? Who do you belong to?” Gil demands. He’s old enough, experienced enough, that he can control himself physically, even during a rut. He knows he could keep Malcolm on edge for hours, until the omega is crying with need for Gil to knot him and finish him; or bring him off again and again until there’s nothing left in him when Gil finally fills him with his seed. 

What he  _ can’t  _ deny is the surge of possessiveness that overwhelms him, consuming him until all he can think about is staking his claim over the omega so thoroughly that he’ll never leave him again, that no one will ever question that they are bonded, that they belong together. He needs to hear Malcolm say it, heat dazed though he may be, needs to hear the omega confess his complete submission to Gil as his bonded alpha.

Malcolm reaches a hand back and grabs tight to one of Gil’s, looking him in the eye as he responds. “You, Gil. Only you. I’m yours,  _ your  _ omega. Belong to you,  _ with  _ you, alpha. Please, take me.”

“Oh, fuck, Malcolm,” Gil groans. He squeezes Malcolm’s hand once before taking a firm hold on both hips once more. He increases his pace, fucking into Malcolm fast and hard, shifting the angle of his thrusts until he finds the spot that makes Malcolm shout, that turns the omega’s needy gasps into desperate cries of pleasure each time Gil hits just right.

“Touch yourself, Malcolm. Want to feel you come around me,” Gil orders.

Malcolm obeys, wrapping a hand around himself and jerking quickly, trying to keep pace with Gil’s thrusts. “Want your knot, Gil, please,” the omega begs.

“You’ll get it, love. I’m gonna fill you so full. Show me how bad you want it, how bad you want your alpha. Come for me, Malcolm,” Gil urges. He thrusts harder, faster. His knot is starting to swell and catch on Malcolm’s rim, but he knows he can bring the omega off once before he knots him. 

Malcolm is shaking beneath him, each exhale a desperate cry of  _ ‘oh, oh, oh _ ,’ as he approaches his orgasm. It doesn’t take long at all before he’s crying out, body tensing, his inner walls gripping Gil tight as he comes.

“Oh yeah,  _ fuck  _ yes, so good for me, Malcolm,” Gil groans. His omega feels incredible around him, his body burning, so hot from his heat, his hole slick, the muscles rippling tight around Gil’s cock as he comes and comes.

Malcolm collapses against the mattress, the only thing holding him in place is Gil’s grip on his hips. Gil sighs in appreciation at the feel of his omega, limp and pliant in his hands, trembling through the aftershocks as Gil continues to chase his own completion. He holds Malcolm in place, fucking him as his knot continues to swell, and Malcolm gasps each time it presses against his rim and slips through, spreading him wider and wider, until finally the knot catches and holds.

“Oh, god, Gil,” Malcolm moans. “Love how you fill me, your knot feels so good in me.”

“You’re made for me, Malcolm,” Gil tells him again. He stills his movements long enough to press Malcolm fully down into the mattress, propping himself up on his elbows so he doesn’t crush the smaller man as he presses against, driving himself as deep into the omega’s body as he can manage, trapping him against the bed as he grinds his hips against Malcolm’s in small circles.

It doesn’t take long until Malcolm is pressing back against him, moving his own hips against the mattress, searching for friction. Gil smiles, dropping his head to press a line of kisses along Malcolm’s shoulders and neck until the omega starts to whimper and whine, movements become more and more desperate.

“Hard again already, baby?” Gil growls into his ear. “I told you you’d be coming on my knot.”

“ _ Oh _ , yeah. Yes, Gil. So hard for you, your knot,” Malcolm gasps out, reaching down in an attempt to slide a hand beneath his belly and touch himself.

Gil bites down on his ear, snapping out a hand to wrap around Malcolm’s wrist and pressing even more of his weight down onto Malcolm’s hips, trapping his cock there between his body and the bed.

“No touching, Malcolm. Not this time,” he murmurs, low and dark, full of promise. “You’ll come on my knot, and by my hand.”

Malcolm groans, long and desperate, a shiver of need coursing through him as Gil nips at the bond mark on his shoulder. “Please, please…” the omega whispers, over and over. Gil smirks down at his needy boy, rutting against him with shallow thrusts, groaning when Malcolm tightens around him, nearly losing control as the omega does what he can to drive Gil over the edge.

“You ready to come again, little omega?” Gil asks.

“Yes, fuck yes. Ready for you to fill me,” Malcolm gasps.

“Good boy,” Gil praises. He settles down on his side and pulls Malcolm back against his chest, returning them to the position they’d been in when Malcolm had first woken. 

Malcolm throws an arm back and curls his hand around Gil’s neck, twisting as far as he can, and pulling the alpha down into a filthy, open-mouthed kiss. As they kiss the omega works himself on Gil’s knot, rolling his hips in tiny circles and moaning against Gil’s lips. Gil reaches one hand up to wrap around Malcolm's throat, thumb and index finger cupping his chin, turning his head to find just the right angle and keeping him there as he claims his mouth. He lets his other hand wander across Malcolm’s chest and stomach, scratching and pinching, making the omega squirm on his knot even more as he maps the smooth skin and flat planes of muscle. He can’t go as slowly as he’d like—he’s so close now, he can feel his knot throbbing inside of his omega’s tight, hot channel—can’t learn every inch, catalogue every reaction like he wants. But there will be time for that later. Malcolm is his now, they have all the time in the world.

His hand wraps around his omega’s cock, a thrill running through him at the way Malcolm bucks into his hand and moans into his mouth. He starts jerking Malcolm in quick pulls, eager to feel his omega come around his knot, knowing it will be just what he needs to push him over the edge into the start of his own orgasm. 

Malcolm pulls away from their kiss, gasping in little, needy sounds that go straight to Gil’s knot, somehow making it swell even further as he drives Malcolm towards completion.

“C’mon, baby. Come for me, wanna feel you come on my knot, gonna feel so good,” Gil murmurs into his ear, licking along the rim before whispering more filthy promises until finally Malcolm cries out, body going tense, cock pulsing in his hand.

Malcolm moans, loud and long as he covers Gil’s hand and his own stomach in come. His spasming hole draws Gil’s own orgasm from him almost immediately and he turns Malcolm’s head to the side, burying his teeth into the mark on his neck with a snarl as he empties himself into the omega’s body over and over. Malcolm cries out again, cock jerking against his stomach as more come dribbles from the tip. Gil grins into his omega’s shoulder, not quite ready to release his hold, worrying at the already pronounced bond mark with his teeth. He watches in satisfaction as Malcolm empties himself completely, going limp in Gil’s arms. He runs his fingers through the come coating the omega’s stomach, rubbing it into his skin, fingers dancing along Malcolm’s still twitching cock.

Malcolm whines, squirming in overstimulation at the touch. The desperate movements are enough to start the second wave of the alpha’s orgasm and he groans, pulling away from the bond mark to draw Malcolm into another kiss instead. They kiss, slow and sweet, for several long minutes, each catching their breath, bodies melting into one another as they relax fully down onto the bed. 

This time, they both sleep.

Gil wakes to find his knot has already gone down, and that Malcolm has shifted, turned over so he can watch  _ Gil  _ sleep, this time. Malcolm smiles at him when he sees Gil’s eyes flutter open, reaching out to cup his face in his palm and press a light kiss to his lips. He crawls on top of Gil, leaning over him and kissing him more, and the heat between them begins to build once more. 

Malcolm is somehow even more eager than he’d been before, and Gil lays back and let’s the younger man take what he needs, riding him, bouncing himself up and down on his knot, collapsing down against Gil’s chest in exhaustion when they’re finally knotted once more.

Malcolm’s heat lasts two full days, ending on the morning of the third. They sleep, tangled together, late into the afternoon, then stumble, hand in hand, into the bathroom to take a much needed shower. Gil had managed a few times to wipe them both down, to keep his omega fed and watered between rounds, but they’re both worn out and disgusting, covered in come and slick and sweat despite his best efforts.

They order take out, too tired to try to cook their own dinner and deal with the clean up. As they eat, and Gil starts to feel mostly human again, clean and sated and fed, he starts to think, to worry, to plan. 

They finish eating and a strange, awkward silence falls between them. Malcolm is quiet, pensive, and likely still exhausted. 

“What now, kid?” Gil presses gently. He knows what he wants—to carry his omega back to their bed and curl around him as they fall back to sleep. But, he has no idea where Malcolm sees their relationship going from here.

“I think. Um, I think I should go home,” Malcolm says softly, hesitantly. 

Gil’s heart sinks. He’d known, feared, that Malcolm would want to leave, to go back to how things had been before, but to hear the words…

“Gil? Hey, Gil. I don’t, I just mean. Umm,” Malcolm flounders, reaching across the table to hold Gil’s hands in his own. “I just, this was so sudden. I need to figure out my job, and talk to my mother, and  _ change _ ,” he explains, nose wrinkling in disgust. “And then we can figure out where this is going? How this will work? It’s just a lot right now, you know? But, I don’t, I mean. I’m glad, I’m  _ so  _ happy to be with you.”

Gil watches Malcolm as he speaks, those clear, expressive eyes of his telling a fuller story than his jumbled words ever could. He can see the confusion there, the uncertainty, but also the hope and the love each time Malcolm’s eyes meet his own. There’s no regret, no fear, no anger. Just a young man whose life had been turned on its head, again, in the course of a few short days, trying to figure out his next steps. 

Something in Gil’s chest loosens, and he takes a deep, shuddering breath, realizing suddenly he hadn’t dared to breathe the whole time Malcolm had been talking. As he looks across at his omega he realizes he’d wait forever for him, as long as he knows that Malcolm is  _ his _ . This thing between them had happened so fast, he can easily give Malcolm another day, another week or month, if it means having him forever.

“Of course, Malcolm. I- God, kid, I just want you. However I can have you. If you want to go back to dates and nights out, whatever you want from me, you have it.”

“No!” Malcolm exclaims. “No, I don’t want to go back. I just, I don’t know what going forward looks like, yet. But, I want to figure it out. Soon. Together.”

Gil smiles, lips stretching so wide it almost hurts as he looks across at his omega. A surge of love courses through him and he can’t help himself. He stands, leaning across the table to press his lips to Malcolm’s in a firm, emotion-laden kiss.

“I love you, Malcolm,” he whispers as he pulls away.

Malcolm’s eyes are wide, his mouth hanging open in clear surprise at the declaration. For a moment, Gil worries that he said too much, too soon. But then a smile begins to spread across Malcolm’s face, his beautiful blue eyes lighting up with joy and he surges forward, kissing Gil again until they’re both panting and a little sore from leaning so awkwardly.

“You love me?” Malcolm whispers.

Gil laughs, still surprised at his own admission, and nods.

“I uh, um.” Malcolm hesitates, face falling, and his gaze darts away from Gil’s, eyes flitting around the room to look everywhere but at the alpha.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Gil assures him, reaching out to take his hand once more. “I don’t expect anything from you, Malcolm. I never have, and I never will.”

Malcolm relaxes, turning his gaze back to Gil’s, though there’s still a lingering sadness in his gaze, a hint of doubt. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“Don’t be, Malcolm. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No! I’m glad you did!” Malcolm exclaims, squeezing his hand. “I just. I don’t know…”

“Malcolm, it’s okay. I understand,” Gil assures him. And he does. He can’t imagine how the younger man must be feeling. They haven’t even known each other a month, and while Gil knows himself well enough to know that he loves Malcolm without question, he’d be shocked if the omega could truthfully say the same. Not only is he young, his life has been anything but easy, or typical. Gil is sure that love is something Malcolm had never even expected to find.

“I want to,” Malcolm murmurs, so softly that Gil barely catches the words, isn’t really sure if he heard them correctly. “I want to, I’m just not ready.” Malcolm is so sincere, his expression so open and hopeful that Gil can only smile, leaning across the table once more to kiss his omega again.

It starts soft and sweet, but quickly deepens, turning dirty fast. Malcolm moans against his lips before pulling away and slumping back down into his seat, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “I don’t have to leave  _ just  _ yet.”

Gil barks out a laugh. “Insatiable! I’m not as young as I once was, kid. I’m gonna need all the time you’ll give me to recover from having to keep up with your skinny ass.”

Malcolm tries to pout, but it dissolves into a happy little laugh that Gil would do anything to hear again and again. 

"Can I drive you home?" Gil asks after they clean up what's left of their dinner.

Malcolm agrees immediately, heading back to the bedroom to gather his things and change into fresh, clean clothes. He stills smells strongly of Gil, of their bond. It’s sunk deep into his skin, strong enough that Gil guesses even a beta like Jessica will be able to smell it on her son. Something settles in his chest at the thought of Malcolm smelling of him, a piece falling into place that had been missing for some time. The dull ache that had taken up residence there over the past several weeks is gone, replaced with a deep contentment. 

Malcolm returns, a duffle that probably costs more than Gil makes in a year slung carelessly over his shoulder. He smiles, endearingly shy, when he sees Gil waiting for him. The omega walks right up to him, dropping his bag and throwing his arms around Gil in a tight hug. Gil grunts in surprise, not expecting the show of affection, but he recovers quickly and wraps his own arms around the omega, pulling him in tight. Malcolm presses his nose into Gil’s neck, inhaling deeply before planting a light kiss against his skin. Gil huffs a gentle laugh into the omega’s hair, and Malcolm pulls far enough back that he can meet Gil’s eyes.

“I don’t regret anything,” he tells him, soft and sincere. “I just have questions, still. I just need a little more time.”

Gil tightens his hold, dropping his own head to press his lips against the still-tender bond mark that shows starkly against Malcolm’s pale skin. Malcolm shudders at the contact, hips hitching forward instinctively, head dropping further to the side in a subconscious motion to give Gil full access to his neck.

It’s almost enough to make Gil reconsider how tired he actually is. Almost. He pulls back reluctantly, resting his hands on Malcolm’s hips to keep him in place when he tries to chase after Gil. “Let me take you home, kid,” he suggests.

Malcolm blinks, seeming to come back to himself, and nods. He darts in quickly, pressing one last quick kiss to Gil’s lips before grabbing his bag and heading towards the door. Gil watches him for a moment longer before turning to grab his keys and following him out to the car. 

He’s sure there will still be bumps in the road ahead, that they’ll have bridges to cross and struggles to overcome, but they have each other, and in that moment he could ask for nothing more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it, folks! 
> 
> I decided to make this a series. So, this is the end of the first part, but THERE WILL BE MORE. I have a couple of other projects I want to get started/caught up on, but then I will be jumping right back into Part Two!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! If you are enjoying this fic, love Prodigal Son, and are 18+, I'd love for you to come hang out on the brand new [Discord Server](https://discord.gg/6ytNM9jDBf) that SomeRainMustFall and I started! It is open to all ship-positive, kink-positive people who are looking for a space to chat, get to know, and enjoy the show with other fans in a safe and positive environment!
> 
> You can also find me on Tumblr [here](http://prodigal-zoe.tumblr.com)! I'm always down to scream about the show and the characters!


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